Memories
by Cestrescir
Summary: Even in a town as peaceful as this, there are secrets. Some, more deadly than others. They're all starting to come to the surface. What's real and what's not? Bad summary. Anyways, rated T for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Oh, geeze. I'm pretty nervous here, folks. This is my first, serious multi-chapter. O.o Usually with these things, I have a hard time finishing them. Luckily, I have the first seven chapters of this all written out, already...but...it still isn't finished. If you guys like it, you're all going to have to push me, okay?

I'll try to keep updating, it just might be a bit slow, this week. I have exams all this week, and I'm going to have to study. Yuck.

Anyways...on with the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. If I did, my house would explode from the sheer awesomeness. I'm pretty sure I still have a house. XD

**Chapter 1**

"_Schizophrenia..."_

"_But, Mummy! I'm not lying!"_

"_There are _no_ faeries, Arthur! Do you hear me? **They don't exist!**"_

Breathe.

Green eyes fluttered open, looked around, focus on the alarm clock.

Closed.

With a groan, Arthur got into a sitting position, running a hand through his bed-head. Eyes cracking open, he checked the time again.

O-dark-thirty. Too bloody early.

Stifling another groan, he started getting ready for the day.

Arthur Kirkland was new in town. He'd recently moved to America from England to get away from his over-bearing, stalker-type mother. America was the one country she'd sworn never to set foot in, so...

The whole 'freedom' thing was working out quite well.

Arthur finished buttoning up his shirt, pulled a sweater-vest over his head, and grabbed his coat before heading off to work.

OO_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

"_When I grow up, I'm gonna be a HERO!"_

"_Haha...that's great, son."_

"_Imaginary friend."_

"_Schizophrenia."_

"_That way, I can protect my brother!"_

"_Delusional."_

"_Supposed to have had a twin."_

"_...Alfred, you don't have a brother."_

"_But he's right here, Dad! **He's holding my hand!**"_

Alfred smiled at the girl behind the McDonald's cash register as she handed him his change, making her giggle. He then grabbed the bags ans the two coffees, tucking the bags under his arms.

Alfred F. Jones was a student at the local University, though he was currently considering enlisting in the Air Force, or maybe the Marines. He was still having trouble deciding Whistling cheerfully, Alfred made his way down the street to the University's library, where he knew he'd find his current tutor.

The Brit had been rather unwilling, at first. He worked at the library, so he found Alfred's boisterous attitude...irritating. But the guy knew so much about history...

Eventually, Alfred had worn the man down (through a series of rather strange events that may or may not have included getting his nose slammed into a door more than once), and Arthur had said yes. Just so long as Alfred brought breakfast.

The blonde poked his head into the quiet library, and grinned when he saw the frown.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

"_Terrible crash."_

"_Brother's dead."_

"_Ludwig! Oh, baby, are you okay?"_

"_...Who are you?"_

"_I-I'm your mo—"_

"_Gilbert! Where's Gilbert?"_

"_The only thing he remembers."_

"_**Where's my bruder?!**"_

Ludwig frowned and looked up from his book. The University's library also doubled as a public library, so he came here quite often. Currently, a not-very-quiet whispered argument was going on behind the bookshelf in front of him, and the German could bet he knew who it was. With a grumble,he closed his book and went to join them.

Ludwig's family had moved to America when he was ten, after a terrible accident had claimed the life of his older brother, as well as Ludwig's memories. What the doctors couldn't figure out, was why he could remember his brother clearly, but absolutely nothing else from before the accident.

Ludwig frowned as he watched the two men argue over one of the history books, then cleared his throat. The two looked up in surprise, then Alfred grinned.

"Heya, Ludwig!"

"Shhhh! This is a library! Not a bloody football stadium!" Arthur hissed, glaring at the college student. Alfred at least had the decency to look sheepish.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

"_Oh, Francis. You're such a vain little thing."_

"_What's vain, Mama?"_

_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_

""_Antonio! Do your homework, already!"_

"_...Oh, **fine**!"_

_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_

"_Roderich, please stop playing and go outside...you're so pale..."_

"_...No. I'd rather be here."_

"_...Then I'll let the girl from next door into you room."_

"_No! Fine! I'll go. Just don't let Elizaveta--"_

_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_

"_Speech impediment."_

"_Come on, Berwald. Say your name..."_

"_...B'rw'ld."_

"_...Let's try again..."_

_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_

"_Violent tendencies."_

"_Soren! Put the ax down. That's way too big, you'll hurt yourself!"_

"_But look at its beady little eyes! Its gonna kill us!"_

"_...Sweetie, that's just a squirrel."_

_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_

"_Ivan...I thought you didn't like the snow?"_

"_I don't. But he told me to come out."_

"_...Who did?"_

"_The blue man who makes the snow and cold. General Winter."_

_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_

It was midday, and the library was filling with people. Mostly regulars.

As he walked to the checkout, Ivan could hear Roderich start to play on the second floor. Antonio was bugging those Italian twins in the non-fiction section. Ludwig, Alfred, and Arthur were having a whispered history discussion (argument) in their usual spot.

It seemed like a fairly normal day.

The Russian smiled as he set his books on the counter.

"H'llo, Iv'n," the tall, rather intimidating (to anyone else) blonde librarian mumbled as he took one of the books.

"Hello, Berwald," Ivan replied.

Just then, Soren's head popped up from behind the counter next to Berwald, making the Russian and the librarian blink. As usual, the Dane's blonde hair was in wild disarray, though his eyes were bright with mischief.

"Wh't're y—" Berwald began, but Soren interrupted by putting a finger to his lips as he peered over the edge of the counter.

"Look!" he whispered, pointing. "Alfred got a coffee for his 'invisible' brother, again!"

Berwald rolled his eyes, and Ivan sighed.

Ever since Alfred had off-handedly mentioned that his parents used to think he was schizophrenic because he used to play with his unborn twin brother as a child, Soren had set out on a quest to prove Alfred still thought his 'brother' was around. ((a/n: O.o sorry about the lack of periods in that last one. XD))

"Sorry to burst your bubble," Francis said as he walked over, a book in his hand. "But that coffee is for Arthur."

"Br'kf'st..." Berwald said, and Francis nodded.

"Alfred buys him breakfast every morning," the Frenchman elaborated.

Ivan couldn't help but snicker softly as Soren began to sputter.

"B-but no one's drinking--!"

"Because Arthur is English, and he prefers tea," Francis interrupted gently, a smile tugging at his lips. Berwald rolled his eyes again as Soren deflated, standing up with a sigh.

"Lemme help you with your book," the Danish librarian grumbled, holding out his hand.

Francis beamed and handed it over.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

"_Pastaaaaaaa~~~~~"_

"_**Shut up**, Feliciano!"_

"_Ve~~ But, Lovino...!"_

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Yay! Its finally over...that took me longer to type up than I thought it would. O.o

Yeah, the parts in italics are little scraps of memories. It'll all come together, you'll see.

I noticed that people call Denmark either Matthias, or Soren (sorry, my computer doesn't do the grammatically correct slashy-through-the-o-thing) so I just chose one and stuck with it. But, his little memory clip comes from a joke in a funny comic called Scandinavia and the World. According to that, Danes are afraid of nature. XD So I had him freak out over a squirrel. Sorry!

Anyways, I hope you (anyone who got this far, really XD) liked it! I'll try to get the second chapter up as soon as I can. ^^


	2. Chapter 2

Hey! I'm glad people liked the first chapter. I was actually worried that no one would like it at all. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, too! Let's just get on with the story! :D

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

"_Heracles? Heracles, honey..."_

"_..."_

"_Heracles, come away from the kitties, now. Its time to go home."_

"_..."_

"_Sweetie, come o--"_

"_No."_

"_Wh-what? Sweetie, what are yo--"_

"_**This isn't real**."_

Breathe.

The country of Greece opened his eyes and yawned, stretching like a cat. He ran his fingers through his brown hair, blinking sleepily. Eventually, he made himself look at the clock, and sighed. Time to get up.

Still running his fingers through his hair, he got up, throwing on a shirt and pants, then brushed his teeth. He had to be careful going down the stairs. His cats wanted to be fed, and they kept weaving through his legs, in-between each step.

Every night, he dreamed of his 'past', and every night he'd tell the false memories that they weren't real. Only to wake up in this world where only those false images made sense.

Absently, he pet a tabby's head as he finished filling the bowls. He glanced at the clock again, giving another sigh. Time to get to work...

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_OO_O_O

"Al! Hey, Alfred!"

Fingers snapped in his face, and blue eyes blinked before focusing on the source.

The American grinned. "Hey, Leo!" he greeted, thumping the other boy on the shoulder and receiving an exasperated look.

Leonas was Alfred's best friend, apart from Arthur. He and the brown-haired teen had been doing everything together since they were kids.

"We're going to be late," Leo told him, trying to urge Alfred towards the classroom. Alfred blinked, letting Leonas drag him along.

"What's the big rush?"

"There's a new guy! From _Finland_!"

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O__o

Tino gathered up his stuff, humming softly. The class was over, and he was hoping to try to find the library, maybe to pick up a book on Psychology. He'd need it, sitting next to Ivan Braginski.

Five minutes into the class,and he was already wishing he was back in Finland, far away from the creepy Russian.

"Hey, Tino, right?"

A blond and a brunette were blocking his way through the door. Tino just smiled.

"Yes! I--" the blond broke in before he could go on, almost literally grinning from ear to ear.

"Cool! I'm Alfred, and this is Leo--"

"_Leonas_," the other boy grumbled. Alfred took no notice.

"--And since you're new, I thought we'd give you a tour!" From the phrasing, it obviously wasn't Leonas's idea, but it was too good (and convenient) of an offer to simply pass up.

Tino nodded eagerly. "Actually, I wanted to find the library. I need to look for a few books..."

He didn't think it was possible but Alfred's grin widened.

"Oh, I can _definitely _show you where _that_ is."

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

"Karpusi."

Lazily, Greece opened his eyes. Frowned. Then blinked, reaching up to remove the magazine from his face, sliding his feet off the counter. The man in front of him looked mildly annoyed. By now, though, he was used to Heracles' attitude, so he seemed, for the most part, unfazed.

"Hey, Boss."

His 'Boss' face-palmed, shaking his head. So much for being unfazed.

Greece worked in a pet store. He was actually the best, if not laziest, employee. Especially when it came to the cats. Then again, he was _Greece_, so it was to be expected.

"Karpusi, I _assume_ you can take care of things while I'm gone?" the older-looking man grumped.

Greece nodded. "What's up?"

His boss sighed. "Something came up at home. I probably won't be in for the rest of the day. Hold down the fort," he said.

The nation gave him a lazy salute. "Aye-aye, Captain," he mumbled halfheartedly. Then, he was alone with the animals.

Time for another nap.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Tino's eyes widened when he entered the library.

Leo smiled. "I know. Its huge, right? There's even a second floor where our resident music Major likes to play the piano," he informed the new student.

Alfred decided to cut in then.

"We actually have no clue why its so big. Especially the history section. That thing has its own _room_. We used to think that maybe it was because it doubles as the public library, but its too big for even _that_!" the blond babbled.

Tino nodded, looking around. It _was_ a big library, and there were already a lot of people walking around, sitting, studying.

A large blond man walked into the history section, and he saw Ivan and a nervous trio sitting at a table covered in books. A girl sat on an armchair nearby, fingers clicking away on her laptop keyboard. Alfred bounced over to her.

"Amy! Don't you usually work on Wednesdays?" he asked, trying to peer over the top of her laptop. Amy quickly closed it, brushing a lock of perfectly straight blond hair behind on ear.

"Please, Alfred. I'm trying to work on my thesis," she said, eyes narrowed in irritation.

Leo sighed, glancing over at Tino.

"Alfred's been trying to ask her out since the beginning of first term," he explained. "Obviously, he hasn't been having much luck."

Tino couldn't help but laugh as Alfred shot Leonas a kicked puppy look. Ten minutes later, the Finlander found himself walking up to the desk with five more books than he thought he'd get.

"Hullo," said the man behind the desk. "I suppose you're the new student, then?"

Tino blinked, then nodded, setting his books down on the counter. From the accent, he could tell the man was English, and he even dressed like a librarian. That, coupled with the largest eyebrows Tino had ever seen, the man seemed a bit like a walking stereotype.

"Arthuuuuuuuuur!"

The Brit's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"That bloody..." he glanced at Tino. "Terribly sorry about this, but he's going to keep calling...Oy! Berwald, do you mind finishing this up for me?"

"M'kay."

Tino froze at the sound of the voice. Slowly, he turned, and came face-to-face with...an impossible face. A face that had haunted his childhood.

"...Su-san?"

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Greece was feeding the fish when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head...

The fish food fell from numb fingers, the canister clattering on the floor. It was a it wasn't just any cat. It was one of _his_ cats. A cat that had been left behind. In _reality_.

"H-how...?" he stuttered, eyes wide. It was difficult to process. This cat...how was it _here_?

The cat mewed, and trotted off, slipping into the storage room. Without a moment's hesitation, Heracles followed, only to stop and blinked when he entered the storage room. The cat was gone. Frowning, he searched the whole room, but came up with nothing. He was about to give up, when he saw it.

It was at the very back, just behind a stack of cat food bags. When he got closer, he saw it more clearly. It was strange. Like a rip, in a piece of fabric, the edges slightly shimmery. Except it was a rip _in mid air_. Only two or three feet off the ground. Just...there.

Hands trembling with a rarely felt excitement, he reached out and gripped one edge. It was soft, yet didn't really feel like much of anything. He pulled, watching with growing anticipation as the rip widened.

Cautiously, the country began to lean towards the rip, intending to only take a peek, at first. His elbow accidentally hit the stack of cat food, sending one of the bags toppling down. The bag hit him in the small of his back, pitching him foreword into the rip.

Colors and sounds exploded around him with pain-inducing force. It seemed like an eternity before he finally landed, the landscaped seeming distorted as he stared dazedly around on hands and knees. He heard the crunch on shoes on gravel, and managed to focus on the pair that stopped just in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, Greece looked up into a shocked pair of blood-red eyes.

"Mein Gott!"

–

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Whew, its finally over!

I bet you all weren't expecting _that_! XD I hope I didn't skip around too much.

By the way, that last scene, where he sell into the rip while following a cat(animal)? That was actually based off of a mixture of Alice in Wonderland and Coraline. XD Both are great, twisted stories.

I'm hoping to have the third chapter typed up by to tomorrow, so, if you liked this one...cross your fingers! It depends on my mood after exams.

Anyways...yeah. Hope you all liked it! :3


	3. Chapter 3

Urgh......sorry for the wait, everyone. I've actually been pretty sick for the last few days, so when I told people that I'd have the next chapter up by the weekend....I lied. Obviously, that weekend is already gone. Sorry!

Anyways, this chapter probably won't really explain much of what's going on, yet...but its coming. I promise! (something that makes sense, I mean XD) The first few chapters actually won't make all that much sense. Later chapters will start to tie them all together.

Enjoy!

O_O_O_O_O_OO_O

"_Antonio, Ms. Vargas was here..."_

"_Really? Why?"_

"_...What's...the 'Bad Friend Trio'? Lovino mentioned it..."_

"_Oh! Lovi mentioned me~? Francis, you know, the one across the street? He wanted to call it the 'Bad Touch Trio', but Gilbert didn't--"_

"_Gilbert?"_

"_Our pen-pal in Germany!"_

_IO_O_O_O_O_OOO_

Antonio smiled, poking his head into the restaurant's kitchen.

"Lovi~!" he called cheerfully.

The grumpier Italian brother looked up, scowling. This only caused Antonio's smile to widen, though he mentally prepared himself for--

"What do you want, bastard?"

--that. Lovino never seemed to be in a good mood. Not even when they were kids. Antonio had actually been hoping that Lovino would have grown out of his bad attitude by now, but....no. It seemed as though Lovino would forever be grumpy.

"Tell Feliciano to make his 'Wurst Pasta'! Ludwig is here!" the Spaniard chirped, dodging the tomato-turned-projectile. Lovino must have been in a pretty bad mood. That was the tenth tomato, today. They'd all been thrown at his head, too. Oh, well.

Retreating from the kitchen, Antonio turned to survey the restaurant. Yes, Ludwig was definitely there, sitting at a table in the back. Feliciano would be happy. From the sounds coming from the kitchen, he already was.

Antonio scanned the rest of the full tables, and paled, his eyes resting on one of the larger ones. Oh, dear. It looked like Yao's large family was eating out, tonight. That could get...messy. Chaotic. Any word like that would probably work. Still, he'd have to keep an eye on that table.

All-in-all, though, everything seemed just fine. Another normal, peaceful day,

"Ve~~ Antonio! Can I take it out? Pleeeeeeeaaaase?"

The brown-haired man smiled and turned around to see the nicer Italian brother, who was holding a steaming plate. It was Feliciano's own creation for his German friend. It was pasta in a special sauce with chunks of wurst and potato. Antonio didn't think he'd ever eat any, but he thought the effort was cute. He clapped his hands together.

"Sure!" he replied, letting the Italian pass.

He glanced over at Yao's family and sweat-dropped. He should probably just take their orders and get it over-with.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Soren frowned, tapping his foot impatiently. The stupid bus was late _again_. He didn't want to have to deal with Arthur and Berwald chewing him out, today. He'd been having those freaky dreams again, and it was messing up his sleep pattern.

Dreams of blood and screams, the sound of metal-on metal, armor glinting in the sunlight...

Eyes locked with his across the street, stopping the Dane's train of thought.

Pale hair, most of the bangs brushed to one side, the rest held back by a pair of hair clips. The eyes...he'd seen those eyes before...in the dreams...

"...Nor--"

Soren's trance was broken when the bus suddenly arrived, blocking his view. The blond man quickly got on and looked out the window to the other side of the street...

The sidewalk was empty.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

"Wake up, you bloody git!"

Alfred's head shot up at the fierce whisper, and he looked around frantically for the source.

Leonas grinned at him. "I do a great Arthur impression, don't I?" he laughed.

Alfred scowled, rubbing his eyes before grabbing his glasses. He'd taken them off while studying. Something his doctor had said about it being bad for his eyes to read with them on...anyway, it was a habit now, and it had only made it easier for him to fall asleep.

"What time is it?" he mumbled, yawning.

Leonas slung his bag over one shoulder. "Time to go. Soren just got in, said He'd put the books away for us. Don't worry about Tino, Berwald already sent him down. Those two really seem to be getting along..." he said, trailing off as he looked at his watch.

Afred nodded, grabbing his textbook and journals, and stuffing them into his bag.

"Let's go!" the blond chirped, dragging his friend along with only mild protesting. Leonas already knew it was no use. Alfred had a grip of steel, and conveniently selective hearing.

"Oh!" the brown-haired boy said suddenly, eyes lighting up. "I nearly forgot! We've got another new guy. Supposed to be from Canada, or something."

Alfred laughed. "Really? He--"

Leonas crashed into the taller teen's back with an 'oomph'. He blinked.

"Al? Why'd you stop in the doorway..." He trailed off as he looked past him at the new student.

His hair was longer, and his eyes were more of a violet colour...but he looked just...like...

Leo's eye's widened, and he looked over at Alfred's nearly horrified face.

"M-matthew...?"

"_Alfred, Matthew doesn't exist."_

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Antonio turned around with a smile when he heard the chime of the door opening.

"Welcome!" he greeted, then did a double-take, much to the amusement of his newest guest.

The man wasn't someone he'd ever seen before, and his smirk made him seem like trouble. Antonio was pretty sure he'd never seen someone like this man in _town_, much less the restaurant.

He seemed to be around the same age range as Antonio or Francis, with pale skin and white hair. The man's blood-red eyes made the Spaniard shiver. Though...was that a small 'peep' he'd heard? Couldn't be...

"Guten morgen," the man greeted, making Antonio blink.

"Er..." Another German? Wonder if he knew Ludwig...probably not. What was he thinking? Just because the man was German, didn't mean he knew the only other German in town.

"I'm new in town, so I thought I'd check stuff out. Someone recommended this place..."

Antonio immediately brightened. "Welcome to town, then! I'm Antonio!" he greeted, holding out his hand.

With a grin, the other man took it in a strong grip, nearly enough to make Antonio wince. Unfortunately, it seemed like he was holding back.

"Call me Gilbert. Its nice to...meet you," he replied.

Antonio didn't even notice the slight hesitation before the word. He was too busy thinking. Gilbert? He also seemed to be the right age...and he was German...no way. That would be way too strange. Besides, the Bad Friend trio had broken up when their pen-pal had stopped replying. Nevertheless, Antonio found his mouth moving on its own as he blurted out, "Ever heard of the Bad Friend Trio?"

The nearly predatory grin was the only answer he needed, and the brunette felt excitement bloom in his chest.

"You wait here, amigo. I'm _so_ calling Francis."

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Arthur frowned. Had he heard right? He was pretty sure he hadn't.

"I beg your pardon?"

The boy in front of him stomped his foot frustratedly. What he was suggesting was impossible, but the proof was there. His hair, his face. Dear lord, his _eyebrows_.

"How many times do I have to tell you? My name is Peter Kirkland. Your _brother_? I can't believe you forgot about me again, you jerk!" the boy practically yelled, crossing his arms, eyes narrowed. The Brit put a hand on the door frame, feeling a bit dizzy all of a sudden...

"_Hey, Jerk! You're leaving?"_

"_Don't worry. I'll send letters, Peter. I just need to get away..."_

"_...From Mother, right?"_

"_...Yeah."_

Arthur's green eyes widened in recognition.

"Peter!"

The boy rolled his eyes. "_Finally_!" he grumbled.

As Arthur let him inside, he didn't notice Sealand look over his shoulder at the figure watching from across the street.

Greece yawned, and waved.

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Hey! I'm done. XD And it only took me a week, haha...you're probably all really angry at me, now.

I'm sorry, that chapter was rather long...and boring...and it didn't really explain much either, did it? I'll try harder next time. In the mean time, while I'm typing up the next one....I should probably put up a oneshot....hmmmmm..... Sorry for any typos, too. I tried my best, but I might have missed some...and if my limited knowledge of foreign languages offends anyone, I'm sorry for that, too. Please tell me if I spelled any of the German wrong...even though its two words, I never actually made it all the way through my first-year German class. O.o Yeah, i know I apologize a lot. Sorry. XD

Spring is here! I hope you're all just as excited as I am. Though, I just heard on the news that the weekend is going to have 'winter-like' weather. Why must the world be so cruel? T^T

If you were confused by this chapter, I am so sorry. But, like I've tried to say, it'll start to come together more in later chapters. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this! I'll try to put up the next one as soon as I can...I've just been really lazy, lately...XD

Click the green button underneath, or South Korea will grab you! :O (j/k XD)


	4. Chapter 4

New chapter! New chapter! Yay! :D

Finally got the new chapter up! This one actually starts to explain things.....a little. Sort of. I hope. XD

I don't want to actually give too much away, yet. But, yeah. People have been overly confused, sooo...I just thought I'd throw 'em a bone.

...Or half of one, anyway. Looking at this, it still doesn't really help, but....well, tell me what you guys think, okay?

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

"_Insane."_

"_My sunflowers..."_

"_Oh...I'm sorry, baby. The cold must have killed them."_

"_You..."_

"_Ivan? Who are you looking at?"_

"_You! You did it! I HATE YOU!"_

Ian woke just as his head was starting to slip off his hand, and he immediately straightened, hoping no one had noticed. Next to him, he heard Tino trying to stifle a giggle, and he frowned.

"Stop," he hissed.

The Finnish boy frowned right back, eyes narrowing. "And if I don't?" he challenged. His determined gaze didn't waver, but his voice did. Just a little. Nevertheless, Ian could feel his control slipping, and he grit his teeth.

'Kolkolkolkolkolkolkolkol...'

"Mr. Braginski?"

Grateful for the distraction, the Russian looked up to see the pretty little office attendant standing in the classroom's doorway. The whole class had stopped working to look, but he ignored their stares.

"Da? What is it?" he asked, smiling as pleasantly as he could.

The girl shivered as if cold. "Y-You're needed down at the Main Office."

Ivan nodded and looked to his other side where a nervous brunette sat, twiddling his thumbs. Liet looked up when he felt the Russian's gaze on him, and seemed to shiver when Ivan smiled. He really didn't know why people did that. He was only smiling, after all.

"Take my notes for me?" he asked, and the Lithuanian jumped before nodding vigorously.

Getting up, he followed the girl out of the classroom and down the empty hall, vaguely wondering what the Office wanted.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

After the interruption, class resumed. The lecture was boring. The teacher droned. Liet was scribbling furiously. Someone had fallen asleep in the back. But none of that was important.

All of Alfred's attention was on the person sitting just in front of him.

Even though he'd rested his chin on his folded arms, fully intending to fall asleep, Alfred still found himself staring at the back of the other blond's head, mind reeling.

It was impossible. Yet, there he was. The same age as Alfred himself, sharing the same face and name as the Jones twin who was never born. He was Canadian. Alfred was American. He wasn't a Jones, either. He was a Williams. Not a Jones.

Not Alfred's brother.

"_You don't have a brother."_

"_Matthew doesn't exist."_

"_Was never born."_

He was supposed to have had a twin, but poor Matthew had died in the womb. There was no way. This just _couldn't_ be his Matthew.

No way.

Yet...

"Alfred."

...Why did he feel connected?

"Al!"

Alfred blinked and looked up. Leonas watched him curiously.

"Class is over, Al. What were you thinking about?" he asked.

Alfred shook his head. "Nothing...its nothing..."

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Soren felt like he was going crazy.

Ever since the incident at the bus stop, he kept seeing the same figure. Mostly it was just fleeting glances. Catching a glimpse of shiny cross-shaped hairpins from the corner of his eye, or sometimes seeing pale hair just as it turned a corner. It was almost as if he was being haunted.

There were other times, though. Times that were similar to the bus stop. He'd see the figure from afar, and be pulled in by those intense eyes, unable to look away. Just as he was about to say their name, to remember, he was always interrupted.

The figure was always gone as soon as he looked back.

Soren sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. This was getting way out of hand. Maybe he should talk to a shrink, or something...

He blinked, and frowned. Blue eyes scanned the nearly empty library, and he managed to pin-point what was wrong.

"Hey, Svede," he said, making Berwald look up from what he was doing, a frown on his face. He hated it when the Dane called him that.

"Wh't?" the other man snapped.

"Where's the Englishman?" Soren asked, unfazed.

Berwald rolled his eyes at Soren's word choice, but answered the question.

"H's 't h'me."

The Dane blinked, mouth slightly open. "Say wha...?"

Berwald rolled his eyes again, obviously resisting the urge to smack the other man. As slowly as possible, he started again.

"He's at h'me. His br'ther c'me t'day."

Soren stared at him when he'd finished.

"That," he marveled. "Was the clearest I've ever heard you speak. I didn't think it was possible."

This time, Berwald _did_ smack him.

O_O_O_O_O_O_OOO__O_O

Kiku dug through his coat pockets as he stood at the checkout, eventually pulling out his wallet and handing Elizaveta a credit card. The Hungarian woman smiled as she swiped the card for him.

"Your turn to do shopping tonight, Kiku? I thought it was Im Yong Soo's turn," she said, handing back the card after pressing a few buttons.

Kiku sighed. "Well, yes..." he began, then trailed off, shifting uncomfortably.

Elizaveta gave him a sympathetic smile. "He managed to wiggled out of it, huh?"

Well, it was so much 'wiggling out' as it was Kiku and Yao not trusting Yong Soo in public, but...Kiku nodded, thanking the girl at the bagging station as she handed him his bags.

Elizaveta waved before turning to the next person in line.

"Hello, Alfred!" she chirped.

There was a slight pause, and Kiku blinked at the person in confusion.

"...I-I'm not Alfred...I'm Matthew..." the blond mumbled, looking rather depressed.

Elizaveta blinked. "Oh, sorry."

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Greece threw an arm around the shoulders of Soren's ghost, leaning a bit.

"You done freaking him out, yet?"

Norway rolled his eyes and pushed the other country off in annoyance. He was actually having fun. He'd be having more fun, if they weren't in such a strange situation.

"No. Did Sealand make it in okay?" he asked, changing the subject.

The tiny country(sort of) had insisted on helping. He'd been so annoying, they'd actually had no choice.

Greece stuck his hands in his pockets. "Yup. It went just as smoothly as we'd expected," he replied.

Prussia came up behind the two countries, throwing his arms around both their shoulders and leaning heavily, a huge grin on his face.

"So the appropriate memories just filled themselves in? Really?" the former country asked, sounding rather excited.

A hand reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling him off the other two. Gilbert turned, about to yell at the person, but was stopped when a small polar bear was shoved into his face. The albino flailed his arms a bit--"Mmph! Mmph!"--then grabbed the polar bear from the person before he was smothered.

He blinked at the animal, who seemed just as surprised as he.

"Kumajirou?"

Canada sighed, turning back to Greece who was nodding in answer to Prussia's question.

"I saw another one, today..." he began, then sighed when Norway, Greece and Kumajirou all blinked at him.

"I'm _Canada_," he said before they could ask. The three nodded (though the bear still looked rather confused), and Prussia snickered.

"And _how_ do you spell that?" he asked.

Matthew blinked and frowned, not sure what the German was getting at.

"C-A-N-A-D---"

"EH?" Prussia snickered again, still holding the bear.

Canada blinked again, realization dawning on his face for a split second before his expression turned into a scowl.

"Aw, take off, eh?"

Prussia snickered again, and Norway cleared his throat, making the two look over.

"Saw another _what_?" the Scandinavian country asked, wanting to get back on-subject.

"Another Perfect. She was at the University. I'm pretty sure there's another one who works at the McDonald's, too," Canada explained. Everyone nodded.

"Yeah, I keep seeing one in the library," the Norwegian added.

"And one at Antonio's restaurant," Gilbert quipped.

Greece just shrugged. "They're everywhere..."

"Speaking of the library," Matthew said after a pause. "Norway, I think its about time you..."

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

"Oi! Pay attention, Alfred!"

Alfred blinked, slapping away the hand Arthur had been waving in his face. The Brit frowned.

"You've been distracted all morning. What's wrong?" he asked, green eyes narrowing.

The younger man opened his mouth, and was about to brush off Arthur's question, when he froze. Hesitantly, he turned in his chair, and was just in time to see _him_ walk through the library doors. Blue eyes followed the Canadian all the way to the stairs...all the way up...

Alfred yelped, grabbing the back of his head, and was immediately shushed by Arthur whose hands were suspiciously in his pockets.

"Is it the new student, then? What was his name...Maxwell...?"

"Matthew," Alfred supplied, then hung his head guiltily. "Yeah..."

The younger blond leaned foreword in his seat, resting his head on his arms.

"Its just...he looks so much like _him,_ ya know? But, I know its not possible...I...I'm not really sure what to do..." he sighed. He couldn't help it. The entire situation was leaving him hopelessly confused. He felt like he was falling into a depression.

Alfred yelped again, and glared at Arthur, rubbing the back of his head.

"Okay, I _know_ that was you--"

"Git."

"Hey--!"

"Get to know him."

Alfred blinked. "Huh?" he asked intelligently.

Arthur sighed, shaking his head.

"That's my advice, you git. Take it or leave it. I just think that that's the best thing you can do," he explained.

Slowly, the younger man nodded. "That...might actually work. Thanks, Iggy."

They both blinked, looking at each other.

"...I have no clue why I called you that."

-

-

-

-

Whew! Its finally over. I thought it would be no problem typing this up at one in the morning, but......that was a _lot_ longer than I thought. And a lot less explanatory. Sorry! I thought I'd be able to explain more...but I didn't. Sorry again.

Yeah...the way you spell Canada. I actually found that hilarious. I actually didn't notice that until my mom, who grew up in Ontario, pointed it out. I _really_ wanted to put it in, after that. XD

The semi-bad-guys have finally been mentioned! :D I wonder if anyone even noticed....well, if you did, then I gives you cookie. They'll be mentioned more later on.

Norway, Greece, Sealand, Prussia, and Canada all teaming up....that's kind of a scary thought,now that I look back on it. Actually, every time I think of Norway, I can't help but imagine him wearing his Curling team's amazing pants. XD The Olympics may be over, but I can still reminisce.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this! I'll try and get the next chapter in by the weekend. If not...I was probably kidnapped by ninjas. O.o


	5. Chapter 5

Oh, yuck. I really didn't like this chapter. O.o

There were a lot of time-skips that didn't make sense...and I ended up having to switch around some of the stuff. Yuck, yuck, yuck.

Well, anyway, I put a lot of work into this one, so I hope you guys like it. :3

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

"_Come play with us, Arthur!"_

"_Come play..."_

"_Come play..."_

"_But...Mother says you--"_

"_Don't listen, don't listen!"_

"_Come play!"_

"_Come home..."_

Arthur's green eyes cracked open, the world slowly coming into focus. His room was still dark. Groggily, he rolled over to check the time.

Six o' clock in the morning. He wasn't supposed to be in for work for another two hours. Unfortunately, he wasn't going to get back to sleep. His dreams had been too strange, and he wasn't too keen on the idea of revisiting. This left the option of getting up.

And so, grumbling, Arthur got up and started his day.

He went for a black and gray sweater-vest today, since Peter had spilled tea and jam all over his favorite green one yesterday. Arthur scowled at the memory, but shook his head and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He was about to pick up his toothbrush when he his vision fuzzed slightly, leaving him dizzy enough to have to lean on the sink.

When his vision cleared, he shook his head. Not good. He'd taken his medication on time yesterday, but it seemed like it was starting to short out early. He'd have to take more as soon as he was finished.

When Arthur finally walked into his kitchen he blinked, then frowned.

"Peter? What are you doing up this early?" he demanded.

The boy jumped in surprise, looking up from the waffle he'd been munching on, eyes wide. Arthur quickly held up a hand.

"Swallow," he ordered. Peter quickly obeyed, then opened his mouth to answer.

"Couldn't sleep," he said with a slight shrug. "But I made waffles and tea."

Arthur immediately brightened at the mention of tea, and moved over to the cabinet where he kept his mugs and cups. His teacups had their own shelf at the very tops. He was quite proud of them. A few were antiques, after all. The nicer ones he never used, so he pulled out a more modern teacup.

After filling the cup with tea, he went to his medicine cabinet. It would be better to take his medication now, while he had something to wash it down with. When he opened the cabinet, he frowned, digging around a bit before turning to Peter.

"Have you seen my medication?" he asked.

Peter shook his head. "Nope!"

Frowning again, Arthur turned back to the medicine cabinet. Behind his back, Sealand took a sip of tea to cover his smirk.

O_O_O_O_O_O

Soren nearly let out a whoop as he walked behind the counter. Berwald even looked up and nodded approvingly.

He was _on time_!

"Yah--" A hand smacked over his mouth.

"Do it and die," Arthur hissed. The taller man slowly nodded, and the hand was removed from his mouth.

"Wrong side of the bed?" Soren asked mildly. The Brit snorted.

"No, that was Berwald. He fell off."

Berwald glared, having heard the comment from his side of the counter, and Soren chuckled.

"Really? How d'you know that?" he asked, oblivious to the angry Swede now looming behind him. Arthur just shrugged and walked off towards the history section, leaving the unwitting Dane to his fate. That fate, it seemed, for have to be put on hold for a while longer.

"Su-saaaaaan!"

Berwald face-palmed. Soren simply shook his head, patting the other man on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Go on. I can handle things here," he reassured the Swede.

With that, the Dane was alone at the counter.

"Excuse me?"

Soren grinned and turned. "Hey! How can I--" He froze, eyes widening, colour deciding to desert his face for that moment. It was his ghost.

The 'ghost' smirked. "Hello, Soren," he said, placing a book on the counter.

"_Hello, Soren."_

"_Heya, Nor--"_

He was broken from his thoughts when Arthur suddenly ran from the library.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Francis smiled as he pulled into Antonio's driveway. His friend had sounded quite excited over the phone, babbling something about someone he'd met at his restaurant before accidentally switching to Spanish, leaving the Frenchman completely confused.

In the end, Antonio hadn't been able to explain exactly what had happened _without_ switching to Spanish, and had demanded that Francis come over right away. Considering this event had gotten his friend so excited he couldn't speak in a language Francis could understand, the man was a bit curious. Just a bit.

Flipping his hair once, Francis threw open Antonio's front rather dramatically, a large smile on his face.

"Bon--" He was abruptly cut off when someone grabbed the front of his turtleneck and pulled him roughly inside.

"What on Ear--" this time he cut _himself_ off, eyes wide. The pale, red-eyed man grinned as he let go of the blond, lightly (sort of) punching his shoulder.

"Hallo, Francis. Miss me?"

"G-G-Gil--"

He heard Antonio laughing in the other room.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

"Ludwig! Ludwig!"

The German sighed, closing his book and setting it beside him on the bench. He had been hoping to have a quiet day, today. Then, Feliciano had come in, shattering the silence. At least he hadn't brought his brother with him. Ludwig hadn't really been in the mood to be called 'Potato-bastard'.

After much begging, and close-calls with tears, Ludwig had finally caved to Feliciano's will. Which was why they were now at the park. He had no clue _why_ the Italian had wanted to come her, besides the fact that it was a nice day out. He wasn't even going to bother asking. He just wanted to finish the last chapter of his book.

Speaking of the Italian, he was still calling Ludwig's name, repeatedly. He was also waving his arms around frantically, meaning that he wanted the German to join him. With a sigh, Ludwig got up and walked over, wondering when he'd be able to finish his book.

Feliciano was standing when he'd called Ludwig over, but as soon as the man got to his side, he quickly crouched, peering into a large, leafy bush. Ludwig blinked, wondering what he was doing, when he suddenly heard a small "Peep!".

Startled, he crouched down as well, peering into the bush. There, in a small space near the center, sat a small, yellow chick. It hadn't seen Ludwig yet, and was still watching Feliciano, who was making small cooing sounds, trying to coax it out.

"I think a cat nearly got it, poor thing. See? Look at its wing," the brunette murmured. Ludwig blinked, leaning foreword a bit to get a better look, and saw the red blood staining the fluffy yellow of the small wing.

Then, the bird saw him. It blinked, tilting its head.

"PEEP!"

Ludwig fell backwards onto his butt in shock at the sudden volume, and the chick hopped out of the bush. Both men watched as it managed to hop up his leg, up his torso, and onto his shoulder, where it began—much to their shock—nuzzle his neck.

"Wow, Ludwig! I never knew you were such a bird-person!"

"Me neith—OW! Why the heck did it peck me?!"

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Arthur rounded the corner, heart pounding.

"Leonas!"

The brunette looked up at the sound of his name, and his eyes widened when he saw Arthur. He got up, glancing at the blond who'd been sitting next to him, and walked over, meeting Arthur half-way.

Arthur glared. "I'm _here_. What do you bloody _think?_" he snapped.

Leo flinched, but it wasn't him who spoke next.

"Please calm down," a soft voice said. "He's just as worried as you are. He's just in shock over what happened..."

Arthur turned to the speaker, only to feel like he'd been slapped in the face. He looked just like...

"I'm Matthew," the blond supplied wearily.

"Arthur," he said with a curt nod.

Leonas looked over at Matthew. "Thanks..." he said, and Matthew nodded.

"No problem," he replied

Arthur shook his head. "Focus!" he snapped, making both teens jump and look over at him. "Tell me _exactly_ what happened."

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

_Earlier that morning..._

Alfred grinned at his two walking companions, a slight spring in his step. Leonas just rolled his eyes at his friend, and looked over at at the Canadian walking next to him.

"Sorry about this, though I'm surprised you actually agreed to walk with us," he said.

The whole thing was actually Leonas' idea, though it was usually just him and Alfred. Leo was a bit of a health nut, so he was always trying to get his friend to eat better and exercise more. Alfred had been rather adamant about getting his daily dose of burger, so they had settled on walking to school every morning.

Somehow, Alfred had managed to corner Matthew yesterday, and had talked the poor Canadian into walking with them. He didn't live too far from them, so it wasn't really that much of a hassle. Leonas had actually been opposed to the idea of Matthew coming, though not vocally. He was worried about Alfred's mental state. But, when he'd mentioned it, Alfred had just laughed it off, saying he was fine.

So, here they were.

Matthew smiled shyly. "Well...its not as if I had much choice..." he said. This made Leonas laugh.

"Yeah, Alfred can be pretty persistent," he agreed.

"Hey! I'm _right here_!" Alfred practically shouted, standing only five feet from them with an indignant look on his face. Matthew laughed, and Leonas snickered, causing Alfred to stick out his tongue childishly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alfred saw a kid run into the street to retrieve a way-ward basketball. Alfred froze. The light was green. The kid looked up, a deer caught in the headlights of an on-coming semi.

The next few moments seemed to happen in slow-motion, his body reacting faster than his mind. Alfred ran into the street, practically throwing the kid back onto the sidewalk just as the truck driver hit the breaks.

There was pain.

Then there was nothing.

-

-

-

-

O.o

Yeah, I seriously did that. Don't ask me why. Its all just for the sake of the plot.

Originally, that last part was supposed to be near the middle, but I thought it would work as a better cliffy for the end. :p

I can't wait to get the next chapter typed up. That one is the most fun, in my opinion. Still, I hope you all liked this one! :3

I just realized that there was no mention of the bad-guys in this chapter. D: Oops. I meant to bring them in more. Oh, well. I'll just leave that for the next one.

I'll try to update the next chapter by this weekend for you all. :) Thanks so much, to everyone who has been reviewing! Its really nice to hear people's thoughts on my work. Makes me feel special, lol

I just noticed that all my chapters are reeeaaaaaly spaced out. O.o Sorry if that bugs anyone.

Anyways, thanks for reading! :D


	6. Chapter 6

........

O.o

This took me waaaaaaay too long to write.

Soooo.....yeah. I was looking through what I had for this chapter (a week or two ago) and realized.....it made sense in my head, but it probably would make NO sense to anyone else. And I'd like my chapters to actually START to make sense. Sooo.....yeah(again).

I've been working my ass(excusemylanguage) off trying to re-write this entire chapter and have it make sense. And for all my hard work's sake.....I hope you all enjoy it! :D

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_OO_O

_"Hey, Mattie!"_

_"You're my brother, right?"_

_"Mom? What are you talking about?"_

_"Matthew was never born."_

_"Your brother doesn't exist."_

Matthew sat with his back against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest.

This wasn't supposed to have happened. It shouldn't have happened. Why did it happen? Alfred wasn't supposed to be in the emergency room. Matthew's reflexes were just as good as Alfred's. Why couldn't he have reacted faster? Why didn't he pull Alfred out of the way? Why couldn't he save his brother? Maybe it had been the denial he'd been feeling at the time. After all, it shouldn't have happened. Shouldn't be happening now.

But it was.

Canada glanced past Leo, who was starting to doze. Unfortunately, he found, glancing at the clock wasn't going to help. He'd lost track of time a little while ago. He had no clue how long Alfred had been in the ER. Too long.

It felt like forever.

Glancing to his other side, he saw Arthur sitting on a bench, his leg bouncing anxiously. Canada felt a pang of anguish. Why did this all have to happen? He just wanted to go home, to be a family again, however dysfunctional it was. Matthew leaned his head against the white wall, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

They all jumped when the doors opened, and Matthew quickly got up, blinking the half-formed tears away. The doctor strode over to them, and Canada couldn't help but blink.

The doctor was actually fairly normal looking. Tall, with shirt brown hair. The face was a reverse of what the confused nation was used to. Unlike in the past. Canada could see the man's eyes, which were brown, but because he had not removed the surgical mask, the lower half of the face was hidden. The effect was almost surreal.

Almost.

It would have been surreal if Kumajirou had been the doctor coming out of the ER, instead of Turkey. The very thought made Canada's head spin, but he quickly brought himself back down to earth, wanting to know Alfred's condition.

"Well?" Arthur demanded before the doctor could speak. Matthew nearly groaned out loud. Leave it to Arthur to start being bossy.

The doctor sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well...we've managed to stabilize him, for now...but he's lost too much blood..." he began.

Leonas' face went white, and Arthur's head snapped over. "_What?_" the Englishman hissed, green eyes narrowed. Leo then found himself being pinned under an intense violet gaze, the effect making him feel like a pinned butterfly in a bug collection, and he licked his lips anxiously, mouth suddenly paper-dry.

"A-Alfred once told me he had a rare blood type..." the brunette murmured, rubbing his arms. Arthur's face went white as a sheet, and the room temperature almost seemed to drop a few degrees. Matthew was silent.

Doctor Adnan, as that is his name, nodded, brown eyes serious. "Do you have any idea how we can contact any family members? The parents preferably, since they have a better chance of having the same blood type. The closer the better," he explained.

Everyone seemed to look at Leonas expectantly. The boy in question frowned and shook his head. "No...no one close enough. Both his parents were only-children, and his surviving grandparents live in Florida...His parents are on vacation in Prague, right now," he said slowly, thinking as he spoke.

"Any siblings?" the doctor pushed. "Maybe a brother, or...?"

"No, he's an only--"

"I am."

The silence was deafening, and the three turned to look at Matthew, who stared back at them, violet eyes determined.

"I'm his brother."

o_O_O_O_o_O_O

No one knew what happened. No one could figure out how, or why, but they knew when. This whole mess had started a year ago. The question of how it even _started_ was still a mystery. Out of the blue, it came and hit the world hard and fast.

Sort of like one of those nuclear bombs America had, she supposed, minus the '_boom_' and the cancer. Actually, minus the bomb, too.

It was an attack that had targeted the larger countries. Those in the G8. Those with some noticeable power, even if not a lot. America had been the first to go. He'd just disappeared one day. The only thing he'd left behind was a rather frantic message to Canada, one that had told him to run and hide before getting cut off.

When England and France had disappeared, that's what Canada had done, though he still hadn't known the reason why. No one knew. The countries had kept falling, disappearing, one by one. Seychelles figured she hadn't been targeted since she was still rather small, still not quite as powerful as the others.

Sealand wasn't even recognized as an official country by most of the other nations, so he was left alone as well. The others who were left had their own reasons for not being taken. At first, they'd all waited, hoping for everything to right itself. What else were they supposed to do? They had no idea _how_ this happened, or even _what_ had happened. There was nothing they _could_ do.

The world didn't right itself over the course of the year. In fact, attempts, of some sort, were still made on a few of those who had managed to get away. Finland had been one of them, but he'd disappeared around two months ago.

Then, their spark of hope had arrived.

Seychelles nibbled absently on a fish stick as she pulled the curtains back slightly, allowing her a better view of the scenery.

After Greece had randomly popped up in Canada's driveway, a few of them had holed themselves up in one of Matthew's houses, one in British Columbia. The landscape really was quite beautiful, and Seychelles loved to look at it, it was so different from her own landscape.

But that wasn't the reason why they were there.

This was, as Prussia had very enthusiastically said it, 'Home Base'. The rip between Here and There was in the driveway, fenced in with caution tape so they wouldn't forget it was there and accidentally stumble in.

Prussia, Sealand, Canada, and Norway had all gone through the rip with Greece. The plan was basically to save everyone. Whatever had first captured them had, according to Greece, replaced their old memories with ones of a human life. So, Greece and the others were supposed to get them to remember, and find out what was going on in the process.

Seychelles and the other three who had made themselves comfortable in the base, were basically just the backup. Ignoring the arguing going on behind her, Seychelles checked her cell phone, and frowned. Hong Kong was supposed to report half an hour ago.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

The library was nearly empty, most people having gone home by this time to get some rest. That was fine with him. It meant there was less of a chance an enemy could be standing right next to him, supposedly looking for information to help them finish their thesis, or a cookbook.

Norway's eyes narrowed, and he quietly looked up from his own book. He sat alone at one of the desks, several different piles of books lying on it, and one of the chairs nearby. The book he was reading wasn't interesting at all. It was a history book, and not a very accurate one. But that was fine, he hadn't come to read books, anyway.

His eyes roamed the nearly empty library until he finally found what he was looking for. He was actually rather disappointed in him. Norway had hoped Denmark would remember sooner, maybe even as soon as he'd seen the fellow Scandinavian country. It seemed as though the memory replacement Greece had told them about was more effective than Norway had originally believed. Or maybe he'd been stupidly over-estimating Denmark, again.

Either way, Norway was going to get Denmark out of this place, with every memory intact. He probably owed the other nation more than that.

"_Norge, get down!"_

"_Den--"_

"_What...just happened?"_

O_O_O_O_O_O_o_o_O

"Seychelles!"

The female nation sighed, turning away from the window. They'd been arguing for some time now, and she'd wondered when they'd call for her. "Yes?"

They were all in the living room, a lamp on the coffee table lit to help support the room lighting as dusk slowly crept up on them. Said lamp and coffee table and lamp helped to divide the two fuming nations in the room with Seychelles.

The Netherlands, though most just called him Holland, was leaning back in an armchair, a scowl on his face. His arms were folded moodily, and his left foot, wearing an aircast, was propped up on the poor dividing-line-coffee-table. His broken foot was a fairly recent injury that he'd gotten when another attempt had been made to 'take' him. He still wouldn't talk about it.

Australia had a similar scowl on his face as he glared at Holland from his spot on the couch, except he was leaning foreword...an angry koala perched on his shoulder and glaring at the world. Australia had said something about it not being wasted, but Seychelles hadn't been listening at the time.

"Well, _Ozzy_ was saying that--" Holland began.

Seychelles saw this as a perfect opportunity, and quickly interrupted him. "Hey, why do we call him 'Ozzy', anyways?" she asked.

The Netherlands frown. "I don't know...maybe I always thought it was his name, or something," he said.

Australia coughed, successfully grabbing their attention. "Um....right here, mates," he pointed out. The angry koala decided to glare at Holland, making the Dutch man's scowl return.

"Fine! Tell us why you're called Ozzy, then," he snapped. Seychelles sighed. Normally, Holland was never this irritable and rude. Several days of being stuck in the same house as Australia, with a broken foot, could do that to you.

The Australian grinned. "I'm 'Ozzy' 'cause I'm an Aussie! _Duh_!" he replied, laughing.

Seychelles and the Netherlands both face-palmed.

Just then, the call Seychelles had been waiting for finally came, and she reached over to the coffee table to grab her cell phone, only to be beaten to it by Australia.

"Hey, who's----Oh! G'day Hong Kong. You're kind of late. Very late.......what? Seriously? Uh-oh....yeah, okay, I got it."

Holland and Seychelles both frowned as Australia hung up on their comrade.

"Canada's in some trouble," Australia explained at their questioning looks, getting up. "He's going to need saving."

"Then I will go--" Holland began, standing up quickly, then winced and cut off as pain flared in his still-very-broken foot.

Australia snorted. "You're not going going anywhere, mate. In fact, you're going to site your pale Dutch arse back down in that chair, and you're not going to move until I get back so we can finish our argument," he said smugly.

The two locked eyes, jealousy in Holland's gaze, but he nodded, slowly sitting back down. Seychelles had never really gotten that. Canada was really nice, and all....but those two always managed to argue over who was the better friend when it came down to doing something for the North American nation.

She frowned at Ozzy. "You're going alone?" she said.

The man grinned. "Yup! And don't you worry, Holly--" There was a short cry of outrage. "--even if you weren't injured, you'd never be able to pull off a proper rescue, anyway!"

O_O_O_O_O_o_O

Matthew winced as his back hit the wall, but met Leonas' eyes without flinching. The intensity of the boy's glare was rather impressive, but it had nothing on England's well-practiced death-glare. Not that Matthew had ever gotten one himself. He'd seen Alfred get one plenty of times, though.

As soon as he'd blurted out who he was, successfully blowing his cover, Doctor Adnan had quickly swept him away for a blood test. The match had quickly been confirmed.

Matthew had had to close his eyes when they'd taken his blood, but that didn't matter. Neither did blowing his cover. All that mattered was; Alfred was safe.

Leonas grabbed the front of his shirt, making the nation blink.

"Who the _hell_ are you?" the boy snarled.

Canada met his gaze steadily, but couldn't help thinking about the fabricated reality. Some of the people were just too real for his liking.

"Matthew Williams," he replied sincerely, voice a bit softer than he would have liked.

Leo's eyes narrowed. "Tell the _truth,_" he barked.

Now there are a few things you need to understand. One, is that Canada is very stressed right now. He hasn't had much sleep in the past few days, and his sleeping pattern has been rather erratic for the past year. He has also not been able to find a Timmie's in this God-forsaken reality, and hasn't had any good coffee in the days that he has been here. He's also being ordered around and man-handled by some punk who doesn't know what he's getting into, and probably isn't even _real_. The worst thing?

He was missing the Stanley Cup playoffs.

All of these things finally added up inside Matthew, and his violet eyes narrowed dangerously. "Oh, take off!" he snapped, pushing the human away from him. "I already told you, I'm telling the truth! _Yes, _I _am _Alfred's twin brother. No, I did _not_ die. Obviously someone has been _lying_, you moron. Now, pisser tourné!" he spat.

Obviously, Leonas had not expected Matthew to fight back, and he sputtered for a few moments, face going red. However, Matthew was no longer paying attention to Leo. His eyes had focused on a figure at the end of the hall.

It was Amy from the University, wearing scrubs and holding a clipboard and pen. She was staring straight at him.

"Merde," the nation muttered, ignoring Leonas and fumbling for his cell phone. Amy was a Perfect. So far, they didn't really know much about the Perfects. Just that they looked almost perfect, physically, and they were everywhere. Watching. Monitoring. Patrolling. Dangerous.

The Perfect started to move towards him, a faux-friendly smile gracing her pink glossed lips. Matthew began to back up, hitting one of the numbers on his speed-dial.

"_Howdy! You've reached the HERO! I'm--"_

Ignoring the sudden stab of pain in his chest, Matthew hung up, and pressed a different number.

"_Hallo?"_

"Hey!" Leonas said, trying to grab Canada, oblivious to the danger and not finished yelling at him. The nation dodged easily and resumed his steady back-pedal, not taking his eyes off the Perfect who was gaining speed.

"Gilbert!" he hissed. "How far are you from the hospital?" He was backing up faster, now.

"The _hospital!?_ Mattie--"

"Answer the question!" Canada barked rather uncharacteristically. He could almost imagine the look on Prussia's face.

They knew nothing of Perfects. Not their weaknesses, nor their strengths. Matthew figured that if they were being trusted to watch _countries_, they'd probably be able to fend off and restrain one. Being alone was currently a bad thing. A very bad thing.

"I'm at Antonio's house. That's--"

Matthew didn't hear the rest. All he could think was '_toofartoofartoofartoofar.'_

_Help wouldn't be able to reach him in time._

As the Perfect passed Leo, Alfred's artificial friend gaped. Matthew couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him. The poor kid had no clue...

The Perfect reached out one delicate hand, touching the boy lightly on the forehead. His eyes rolled back, and he dropped like a sack of P.E.I.'s best potatoes. Canada gulped. _That_ wasn't good. He took another step back as she---it---started to advance again, and the weirdest thing happened. That was putting it mildly.

It started with a text message from Sealand.

-Croc attack! XD-

The next thing he knew, the Perfect had been rugby-tackled to the ground, and Australia was struggling to keep her pinned.

Matthew stared.

"Did you seriously just go Crocodile Hu--" he began, but was silenced by Ozzy's 'finish-that-and-suffer' glare. Then, the Australian grunted as he was smacked in the jaw by a flailing hand.

"Well, that wasn't very nice," the country-down-under commented mildly, and quickly knocked her out. Canada was still staring as Australia got up, dusting off the knees of his pants quite calmly.

"We should probably get out of 'ere, mate."

Matthew nodded, and the two quickly made their escape from the hospital, leaving the unconscious body of Leonas lying on the floor forgotten, until some poor nurse turned the corner and nearly fell flat on her face when she tripped over it.

-

-

-

-

Omigawd. -breathes-

Finally got this stupid thing done. I made it extra long to make up for not updating for so long. Sorry again for that, everyone!

I am currently posting this at 2am, after qay too many late-nighters, and I am DEAD. TIRED. =_=

By the way, a note on the whole Netherlands/Holland being friends with Canada thing.

During the occupation of the Netherlands by Nazi Germany in WWII, the Dutch royal family was living in Canada, Princess Margriet was born in the maternity ward of Ottawa Civic Hospital. Instead of technically being born a Canadian citizen, the Canadian government actually declared that part of the hospital temporarily(summarizing the big words) not part of Canada. This way, since she was not technically born in Canada, she got her citizenship from her mother, making her solely Dutch. (if you want more details, look up the Princess's name on wikipedia. :p)

Because of this, I thought Netherlands would probably be Canada's friend. After all, that was pretty cool, don't you think?

Australia is Ozzy, 'cause he's an Aussie. XD

He and Mattie are friends because.....well, its kinda hard _not_ to. O.o Former-British-colony-Commonwealths have to stick together, dontcha know. :3

pisser tourné = Piss off (please tell me if this is wrong. D: I don't really know French .)

merde = shit

I hope you all liked it. :D


	7. Chapter 7

Hey! I'm back with a new chapter. :D

Sorry it took me so long...again. O.o

Illness in the family...took me a while to feel up to writing again. I was a bit too depressed before. D: But, as you can see from all the faces I'm making, I'm feeling better about it. :3 So! I present to you all...the next chapter of 'Memories!' :D

o_O_O_o_O_O_o

It was a beautiful day. The temperature would have been a little warm, if not for the cool breeze that fluttered through often enough to cool the skin, and not a cloud obscured the sun in the blue sky. The scenery was beautiful. All the green...

Seychelles smiled, looking up at the sky for a moment, shielding her eyes with one gloved hand as she watched a flock of Canadian geese fly by in their signature 'V' formation. Then, she got back to work. Their current base had such pretty little gardens all around it. She'd never known that Canada had such a green thumb.

That morning, Seychelles had noticed that the gardens had needed tending. Without Canada around, the plants needed watering, and the weeds had been starting to get out of hand. So, after finding Canada's gardening supplies, the female nation had volunteered herself for the job.

So, here she was, on her hands and knees in the dirt, pulling weeds from a flower garden in the front yard. It was harder than she'd thought it would be.

The black-haired girl's head raised, eyes wide when she heard a commotion from inside the house. She wasn't expecting an adorable bunny to hop out of the open window nearby, nor was she expecting the front door to slam open.

The Netherlands stood in the doorway glowering. "You!" he yelled, pointing at the rabbit. "Get back here!"

Seychelles blinked, wondering what the rabbit could have done, and was nearly knocked over in surprise when the fluffy animal charged, jumping over her. The rabbit sprinted past Holland, and disappeared into a rather large patch of tulips. With a growl, the Netherlands hobbled down the front steps and over to the tulip patch, before jumping in after it.

_'Oh no...'_ Seychelles thought in dismay. _'Now we'll, _never_ be able to find him!'_

Her mind was pulled away from the tulips rather abruptly, when the Rip shimmered slightly. Quickly, Seychelles got to her feet, a little unsure of what to do. No one had called ahead, so she wasn't sure if it was an ally...

The Rip shimmered again, and two exhausted and disoriented countries fell through, gasping for air. Australia groaned, rolling onto his back as he tried to catch his breath, and Canada managed to push himself onto his knees, glasses crooked and blond hair in wild disarray.

"H-hey, Seychelles..." the blond nation panted, and Seychelles grinned, giving a small jump as she clapped her gloved hands together.

"You guys are okay!" she said happily. Canada nodded, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile.

"Yeah. Safe and sound, thanks to Ozzy. That was a real close one, eh?" he said, directing the last bit at the country next to him.

Australia gave a noncommittal grunt, then glanced around. "Hey, where's Tulip-head?" he asked. He was sure the other nation would have been out to great them as soon as they'd gotten back.

Both male nations blinked when Seychelles winced. "Um..." she began, trying to think up an explanation. Just then, the tulips rustled. Australia looked incredulous, and much to Seychelles's surprise, it was Canada who snickered softly.

"We'll _never_ find him in there."

O_O_o_O_o_O_O_o

Ludwig was _not_ a happy camper.

The German was currently sitting on the couch in his living room, head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His house was only mildly cluttered, since he hadn't had any time to clean, lately, and he wasn't expecting Feliciano to come barging in at this hour, since the Italian was at work.

Thank goodness. The blond was _not_ in the mood for an extra headache.

He really shouldn't have brought the bird home. Ludwig had only realized this recently, though he wished he'd done so sooner. The little thing was a _monster_.

Slowly, Ludwig raised his head to stare at the small, padded basket Feliciano had brought over the day they'd found _It_, and a pair of beady eyes peered back at him. With its little wing splinted, the basket plus the bird was absolutely adorable. Even Ludwig had had to admit that, when he'd first seen it. That was _before_ the thing had shown its true colours.

It was _loud_ at odd times of the day and night, and Ludwig was pretty sure he was starting to develop dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. The thing had a bad habit of _pecking_ the hand that fed it, and Ludwig now had a nice little collection of bandages adorning his abused fingers. The worst part was that it was an escape artist. Somehow, it always managed to get out of whatever Ludwig put it in, causing him to go on a tedious, time-consuming search for it, only to find that it had gone back to the basket on its own. After nearly _five hours_.

After a while, he'd given up on trying to put the bird in places where he _hoped_ it couldn't escape, and just left it in the basket. It always winded up back in the basket, anyways.

The German sighed, rubbing his face with both hands, then glared at the bird. "Damn thing..." he mumbled, then switched to his native language in his frustration. "Was soll ich mit dir?"

To his surprise, the yellow chick hopped foreword in the basket, and gave a soft little chirp, tilting its head almost as if inquiry. Ludwig just stared. There was no _way_. Birds didn't understand _any_ human language, much less German. But...that reaction was just too odd.

Ludwig could feel another headache coming on. He'd been getting them a lot since he'd taken the chick in, that and odd dreams that he could never fully remember once he'd woken up. He attributed both to the stress of having to deal with a demon-bird with a broken wing.

"Verdammt...I need some sleep..." he mumbled. The chick had perked up again at the German word, and it hopped onto the rim of the basket, looking up at Ludwig expectantly.

Ludwig frowned. "What do you want _now_, Bird?" he grumbled. You knew things were bad when you started talking to demon birds. The bird gave a loud indignant-sounding peep, and _glared_ at him. Ludwig groaned. "You are a menace...I wonder if that should be your name..." he mumbled, massaging his temples.

This made him frown. He really _ hadn't_ named it. He'd just called it Bird, or It, or Thing. Recently, he'd been calling it monster, though the first three were still rather popular in his mind. If it was going to be around...he might as well name the stupid thing.

"A name..." he mumbled, closing his eyes.

_The blond man looked up as an albino man burst into the door, making the man frown and roll his eyes as he leaned back a bit in his armchair. He'd just been enjoying a moment's rest, too..._

"_Bruder...you're going to break the door one d--" he began crossly, but was immediately cut off._

"_Your nagging can wait!" his big brother announced, a huge grin on his face._

"_Nagging?" Ludwig mumbled, raising an eyebrow, but Gilbert either didn't notice, or had decided to ignore it._

"_I have some amazingly awesome news!" the red-eyed man continued._

"_Do you..." Ludwig mumbled again._

_It was only then that Ludwig noticed there was something wrong with his little 'flash-back'._

_He was still a kid when his brother had died. In this, he was a full-grown man. Wearing...a German military uniform? And from the looks of it...it was from the second World War. He'd seen pictures, but he was pretty sure he'd never worn one himself. Glancing at his forearm, he winced slightly as his suspicions were confirmed._

_What the hell? Why did he have a memory of being a Nazi in World War Two? And why was his brother wearing the Prussian uniform...?_

_Suddenly, he felt a cool hand touch his forehead, and he blinked up at his older brother's frowning face. "Oi, you okay, West?" '_West?'_ Ludwig thought, but let his brother continue. "You're looking kinda pale. You _better_ not be over-working yourself again, because I swear I will kick your ass if you are," he growled._

_Ludwig blinked, then shook his head, pushing the hand away. "I'm...fine, Bruder. Now, tell me what was so important that you nearly broke my door. Again," he said, the last word popping out of its own accord. Apparently, Gilbert did this a lot._

_The pale man's face lit up._

"_Oh, yeah! Its his birthday!" Ludwig's brother said, making the blond blink._

"_...His?" he asked hesitantly._

_Gilbert pointed to his head, and to Ludwig's shock, a very familiar yellow chick pooped up out of the messy white hair._

"_My awesome Gilbird! _Duh!_"_

Ludwig's eyes snapped open wide, and he ran a hand through his hair, trying to process what his mind had just thrown at him. For a moment, he just sat there, still trying to figure out what had just happened, then he looked at the yellow chick peering up at him from its basket.

"Gil...bird?" he tried hesitantly.

The bird looked up at him with an expression of near-adoration.

_Holy_...

O_o_O_O_o_O_O_o

_He was dreaming, he knew he was. After all, he hadn't played with toy soldiers in _years. _So he had to be dreaming about his childhood. Problem solved. Wrong. Alfred was pretty sure he'd never worn clothes like this when he was a little kid. And he didn't remember ever living in a house like this either. _

_It looked old...maybe built before the Victorian age, though the only reason he could figure out this much was from stuff Arthur had taught him during their morning studying in the library._

_Confused, Alfred looked back down at the two toy soldiers he held, one in each hand. He was sitting on the floor, the rest of his toy soldiers surrounding him. It looked like he'd been pretending to have a war. He frowned, rubbing his thumb over the red-painted wood of one of the soldiers._

_He'd never had toy soldiers like these. Never wood ones, and _never_ toy soldiers dressed like British soldiers from the American Revolution era. No way. He'd gotten all of his toy soldiers from his dad when he was a kid, and his dad had never handed him a boxful of _these_._

"_Alfred?"_

_The blond boy's head snapped up, and he found himself staring _up_ into Arthur's green eyes._

_**Back then, he always seemed so much bigger...**_

_The image of a rainy day flashed through Alfred's head, and suddenly he was looking down at a beaten and bruised Arthur who knealt in the mud. Rain streamed down the older man's face, masking the tears Alfred just _knew_ were there._

"_Why?" the beaten man croaked, looking up into Alfred's eyes._

_**I wonder...when did he become so much smaller...?**_

_With a jolt, Alfred was back in that old house again, looking up at Arthur. His body moved on its own, grinning and jumping up to hug the blond man's leg._

"_Iggy! You're back!"_

_A gentle hand rested on top of his head. "Of course I am, Am--"_

Alfred's blue eyes shot open, and he gasped at the sudden rush of reality that hit him. He closed his eyes again, trying to relax. What a strange dream...

The nineteen-year-old frowned. Wait a second. What had happened? He remembered walking with Mattie and Leo...then that stupid little kid...then...

Blue eyes snapped open again. He'd been hit by a _truck_!

"What the hell?" he mumbled, covering his eyes with both hands, wincing slightly when one of his arms gave a twinge of pain. Pulling his hands back, noticed a cast of his right arm and frowned. Funny...it didn't _feel_ like it was broken. He should have been in a lot more pain when he moved it, if it was.

'_Maybe its just the painkillers...after all, they've gotta have me on those...I was hit by a friggin' _truck!' he rationalized, trying to steer his mind away from the overwhelming possibility of aliens.

There was a gasp nearby, and Alfred turned his head to see a nurse standing in the doorway. Her hair was short, pulled back by some clips, and most of her figure was hidden by baggy scrubs. _Most_ of her figure...Alfred found that his eyes were, despite his attempts to ignore it, drawn to the nurse's ample chest, a faint blush on his cheeks.

Luckily, she didn't seem to notice, since she was too busy staring at him, a hand over her mouth.

"Oh my...but your not supposed to be--!" she began, only to cut herself off as she ran off the find the doctor.

The blond groaned and closed his eyes. Maybe if he just had another nap, all the craziness would end...

–

Done! :D

I finally added in some memory-gain! Sorta...XD At least I managed to fit Germany and Gilbird back in. :)

That part at the top is dedicated to the new APH Netherlands strip! Yes, Holland has a bunny. :) It was in the strip.

Netherlands, tulips. If you don't get it, look it up. (I'd tell you, but my explanation sucks, according to my sister. XD)

Once you get the tulip thing (or if you already do) take a look at Holland's hair. Doesn't it remind you of a tulip? :O XD

Um.....that's all I really have to say on this....sorry if there's any spelling mistakes I missed, I always try to get them all...

Hope you all enjoyed it! :3


	8. Chapter 8

Urgh, I don't feel good...I'm just gonna put this up and be done with it. =_=

O_O_o_o_O_O_o

The Library was nearly empty during class times. Only students who's classes had yet to start, or the real bookworms were in there, now. This is what Soren observed from his spot at the checkout counter, arms folded on the table, chin resting on his arms.

Behind him, he could hear Berwald sorting through various returned books, getting ready to put them back on the shelves. Not himself, of course. The Swede would probably send Soren to do it before slipping off to see if Tino was in the library. Not that Soren really _cared_ at the moment. That was actually near the bottom on his list of things to worry about. At the top was the clock. Every so often he'd look up to glare at it as it ticked another minute away.

He needed to get more aspirin before the last dose ran out. Soren buried his face in his arms. He'd had more freaky dreams last night. At least, he was _pretty sure_ he had. He couldn't really remember the dreams, every time he tried to call up a memory of them it was hazy, the sounds muffled. He'd woken up with his adrenaline on over-drive, and a killer headache.

Hearing the squeaking of the book cart's wheels, the Dane raised his head and glanced behind him. Sure enough, there was Berwald, putting one last book on the nearly over-flowing cart. Soren sighed, deciding he might as well get it over-with.

Getting up, he shuffled over. "I've got it..." he grumbled, putting a hand on the cart. Berwald looked a bit surprised, but nodded.

'_This job is so _boring...' the blond thought glumly. '_Why couldn't I have found something more exciti—oh. Right. 'Cause they thought I was 'high maintenance'.' _He snorted at the thought. '_Wonder what they would say if they saw my mood, now?_'

As dorky as it sounded, Soren seriously felt like there was a raincloud over his head as he began to put the books back according to author name and genre. The task was so tedious, the blond couldn't help but feel his mind start to wander. Eventually, his thoughts landed on the most complicated, weird, thing in his life right now.

Soren scowled. The guy was like some creepy stalker. He popped up almost everywhere Soren went, never offering a name or explanation. The worst part was; Soren felt like he should _know_ the guy! He knew he didn't. Had never met the guy in his life. Yet, as soon as he spotted the stalker, his instincts started screaming at him, telling him he'd forgotten something important, but he could never remember what it was. It was like an itch on your back that you couldn't quite reach.

Frustrating. Infuriating. Migraine-inducing.

Just as he was about to grab another book he felt..._something_...get close, nearly touching, and immediately pulled his had back and looked over. Amy blinked, looking a little surprised.

"Um...sorry. Didn't mean to startle you, Soren," she said, looking sheepish. "I just saw a book I've been waiting for, so..."

Blue eyes blinked, and he rubbed the back of his head. "Uh, sure. No problem," he replied, the waved a hand vaguely over the books on the cart. "They're all going back anyways, so take your pick."

The girl smiled at him, and the blond absently wondered if it was humanly possible for someone's teeth to be that weirdly perfect. The girl took a book, then glanced over at him.

"Red shirt with a black tie? Normally people would go for the other way around," she observed. "Don't you think its a bit conspicuous?"

Soren didn't really like the way she was looking at him. Actually, she wasn't even looking at him wrong. It was just...her. Her very gaze gave him goosebumps, and he had no clue why. Unfortunately, the aspirin he'd taken earlier was starting to wear off. He just wanted to get the books finished without her talking to him, and to get home and curl up in bed.

Instead of snapping, he tried for a much milder approach, his headache was sapping the energy he needed to properly tell someone off. "I must not have been paying attention this morning. Besides, I kinda like it," he said, picking up another book.

Amy blinked. "I see...where's Arthur, today?" she asked, much to the Dane's annoyance. He'd hoped she would have stopped talking to him after he'd answered the first time.

"Home sick," he said curtly. '_Where I should be._'

He felt that wrong..._something_...again, and he instinctively leaned away from it, surprised to find, when he looked, that it was Amy's hand. The girl was frowning, he hand out-stretched like she'd been trying to reach his forehead to check his temperature. Soren gave an involuntary shudder at the thought.

"You look really pale, Soren. Are you alright?" she asked, voice filled with concern. Well, she _was_ a nurse-in-training, after all. Must have been instinctive.

"Yeah. Just a headache," he told her, hoping she'd be satisfied.

Nope.

The student merely frowned. "I just wanna check your temperature, make sure you're not coming down with something, like Arthur," she said, voice soothing as she lifted her hand again, slowly. It was like she was trying to calm a wild animal, though the situation did sort of fit. The closer the hand got, the more it made him want to run, to get _away_ from the wrongness of it.

There was a loud '_SMACK!'_ and the hand was suddenly at Amy's side again, allowing Soren to breath a sigh of relief. The girl looked furious, but stomped off, taking most of the tension with her. Running a hand through his hair, Soren turned to look at his saviour.

Nope, scratch that. Just the stalker.

The blonde scowled. "Why are you always following me?" he growled. The shorted man just shrugged, looking indifferent. This just made the Dane even more frustrated. "I don't even know your _name_!" he nearly yelled, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

His stalker looked faintly amused. "You already know my name."

Soren blinked at this. "Huh?"

_They were running. Running. Running. But from what? What were they running from? He had no clue. One minute he''d been hanging out, the next every instinct had screamed, _'RUN!'

_So, he had, grabbing the other...man? No...there was another word there, right on the tip of his tongue. Couldn't quite remember it, but he didn't have time to try._

_He glanced back briefly, tightening his grip on his companion's arm, then his instincts went hay-wire again, and he skidded to a halt, the smaller body behind him slamming into his back._

"_What the heck is going on?"_

"_I don't know..." Soren mumbled, then his eyes widened, instincts screaming._

"_Norge, get down!" he yelled, pushing him—Norge?--to the ground._

"_Den--"_

Soren grabbed his head, headache morphing into a full-blown migraine as he squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth. Faintly, above the pounding of his own heartbeat in his head, he heard receding footsteps. Eyes snapped open, and he reached out.

"Nor--!"

But no one was there.

O_O_O_O_o_o_O

"_You take your medication for a reason..."_

His mother's words from his childhood echoes 'round and 'round in his head as buried his face in his arms. He knew. He'd always listened. Especially when the things he'd seen as a child had gotten scarier and scarier. Not just faeries. Monsters, ghosts. Everything had started to appear to him, and he'd had no clue why.

His mother had freaked out, doctor thought he was schizophrenic. They'd put him on pills, pills that had actually _worked_. Except for when he ran out and wasn't prepared for it. Then, it all came back full-force until he could get his hands on a new bottle of pills.

Arthur sat in the corner of his dark room, a blanket draped over his shoulders. His head was buried in his arms, his arms resting on his knees which were drawn to his chest. He'd left the hospital early when he'd felt the first effects coming on, even though he'd wanted to stay a bit longer.

He'd been in the corner all night, hadn't even bothered to change. Couldn't sleep, they'd get him in his dreams. Couldn't move since they'd drag him off to 'play'. He just needed to get over it. Adjust to the madness for long enough that he could get new pills.

Slowly, Arthur lifted his head, and looked into the air above him.

They'd bee fluttering around him in a slow, almost dull manner, but immediately sped up when they saw that the blond was looking.

"_Arthur..."_

"_Arthur!"_

"_We missed you..."_

"_Missed you, missed you!"_

"_Come play!"_

"_Please play with us..."_

"_Come play!"_

"_Come play!"_

"_Why won't you come home...?"_

The last question startled him slightly, and send a sharp pain through his head.

"_Iggy...come back soon, okay?"_

_Big blue eyes stared up at him, small hands clutching at the leg of his trousers. Arthur blinked, them smiled, ruffling the boy's hair._

"_Okay, Amer--"_

Arthur grabbed his head, squeezing his eyes shut, wishing he could block out the voices calling to him. What was that? The boy...had looked...like...

"_Arthur!"_

"_Arthur!"_

"_Look back up!"_

"_Up, up!"_

Wearily, Arthur looked back up, ready to face the chaotic nightmare once more.

O_o_o_o_O_O_O

Okay. So, it turned out Alfred waking up so soon? Not something the doctor had expected. Apparently, Alfred was _supposed_ to have been out for a few more days at least after the surgery and stuff...the rest was overly complicated medical mumbo-jumbo that the blond didn't care to understand.

The translation for all the mumbo-jumbo was basically: Alfred was healing way too fast.

Alfred couldn't explain why, of course. After all, _he _was the one who'd been hit by the truck. He was just glad he _was_ healing as fast as he was. Without the painkillers, his body still hurt like hell.

According to his nurse-- her name was Katyusha, or something—Doctor Adnan had decided it would be best to move him to a different floor.

"The same floor as my sister," she added cheerfully as she handed him his glasses. "She's a nurse, too."

So, Alfred had let them move him.

So far, he couldn't see anything to do in the room, and he was already freakin' _bored. _Katyusha's sister came in briefly to check on him, and the teen couldn't help but notice how pretty she was. He didn't even get the chance to ask her name before she gave him a tight smile and left.

Ohhhhh....the bitter taste of rejection....

"Don't let her have your hands."

Alfred blinked, looking over at the other bed where a pair of tired green eyes peered at him from under the covers. He hadn't realized he had a room-mate, thought now that he looked, he was surprised he hadn't noticed the rather obvious human-sized lump on the other bed.

"Say what?" Alfred asked.

The other person sighed, sitting up and letting the covers fall off, revealing a boy (at least...he was _fairly_ certain it was a boy) close to his age with green eyes and nearly shoulder-length blond hair.

"You're _hands_," the boy repeated, holding out his own and wiggling his fingers. "Don't, like, let her touch your hands. She'll, like, to totally break your fingers, and you, like, won't even notice."

Alfred stared. "Huh?" he asked intelligently, eyes wide. He was starting to reconsider his earlier assessment. Maybe this kid was a girl after all...

"Just, like, trust me, okay? I'm Feliks," the boy introduced.

The American blinked. "Oh, I'm Alfred. Alfred F. Jones."

"So, like, would you _so totally_ do me a humongous favor?" Feliks' asked suddenly, green eyes lighting up.

Alfred grinned. "Sure! What's up?" he asked, happy to finally have something to do.

"Sweet! See, I have, like, a broken leg and stuff. And there's, like, this totally weird thing in that closet--" he pointed to a door in the room. "--and I was, like, wondering if you could totally go and check it out," he finished.

Alfred's eyes lit up. Adventure! "Sure!" he quickly agreed, slipping out of the bed, wincing only slightly. Between painkillers and his weird healing skills, he could already stand up and walk on his own, though not very far.

Feliks smiled. "Like, seriously? Wow, thanks. That's, like, so totally cool of you. When you find the thing, you just need to, like, touch it, I think. Okay?" he explained, laying back down on his bed, green eyes tracking Alfred's progress.

Alfred took no notice as he managed to shuffle over to the closet door. He glanced back for a moment, his good hand already on the doorknob. "This one, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, like, that one, man. Its, like, absolutely creepy," the green-eyed boy confirmed.

With that, a huge grin spread across Alfred's face, and he immediately stuck his hand out at he opened the door. His fingers came into contact with something he couldn't quite identify, and suddenly the world around him began to spin violently, causing the blond's face to go slightly green.

Just before he passed out, realized that he'd been able to see both of Feliks' legs.

Neither had been broken.

Wow...I wrote that fast. O.o Faster than I thought I would. I expected this to take a lot longer than it did. Maybe my writer's block is receding?

...Or maybe not. XD

Yay! Lotsa Denmark. Poor thing, he has no clue what's going on...and Norway isn't really giving him a break, is he? O.o For those who didn't know, Norge is the cooler way to say Norway. XD Or at least in my opinion. XD (sorry if anyone was offended by that. D: I know its silly to worry...but I do.)

-sigh- Poor, poor Iggy...his own friends are driving him mad. D:

I'd always thought Ukraine's name was Katyushka...but then I looked it up, and there was no 'k', so.....yeah. Belarus is there, too! :D

POLAND! XD Gotta love him. HAD to have him. That coward. He didn't wanna go check it out himself, so he got Alfred to do it. XD

I'll have what happened to Alfred in the next chapter. Cookie for anyone who can give me a good guess! :D

Hope you all liked it!


	9. Chapter 9

All of my babbling is at the bottom, so just get reading! :D

:O:O:O:O:O:O:O:

"B-7!"

"Dammit, Francis!"

"Well? Hit or miss? Judging by your reaction, however..."

"Its a hit, bastard. E-5!"

"You've already said that one, mon ami."

"_Fine_! E-_4_, then!"

"Miss!" Francis said cheerfully as Antonio walked into the room, shaking his head, wincing slightly at Gilbert's howl of rage.

Ever since their old pan-pal had reunited with them, the Bad Friend Trio had taken every chance they could to hang out with each other. Antonio had even taken a day off from his job at the restaurant today to spend some time with his friends.

"you're not very good at Battleship, are you?" the Spaniard teased, walking over to the couch, fully intent on flopping himself down on the empty cushion next to Francis.

"Well _excuse me_ for never having to deal with a powerful armada!" the albino snapped back.

He knew he should have been confused, but Antonio felt like he'd just been punched in the stomach, all the air rushing out of his lungs in one go.

"Wh-what?" he croaked, his vision growing a bit fuzzy. The sounds around him began to fade, his friends voices seeming farther away, and he-

-_blinked, the sound of waves rushing into his ears, the smell of salt assaulting his nostrils._

"_Captain!" a voice said impatiently, and Antonio looked next to him to see a brown-haired boy, probably no older than fifteen. He felt panicked. What was going on? He was about to ask, but when he opened his mouth, the words seemed to flow out of their own accord, and he blinked when he realized that he was speaking Spanish. In fact, that seemed to be the only language being spoken by the men around him._

"_What is it?"_

"_Pirate ships have been spotted on the horizon, sir."_

_Antonio nodded, mouth set in a grim line. "Tell the men to get ready," he ordered, and the boy nodded, running to do as he was told. Everything around him burst into a flurry of activity. It was then that the Spaniard took the time to actually notice his surroundings in what _must_ have been a hallucination._

_As he looked around, he nearly did a double-take. He was on a ship? Well, duh. He should have seen that coming when the kid from earlier had mentioned pira-_

_Wait. Pirates? Antonio's mind worked furiously. The word that had brought this whole hallucination on...was it...when Gilbert had said armada?_

_Frowning, the man turned to the boy from earlier just as he started to run by, again._

"_You!" he said, not really knowing what else to say. Its not as if he knew the boy's name, though he was surprised that he now had control over what he said._

_The boy stopped in his tracks, looking up at Antonio expectantly. "Yes, Captain Carriedo?"_

_Antonio shivered slightly. Captain? That didn't sound good. "What..." he began, trying to think of the right question, then decided to go with the blunt version and throw the other ideas overboard (excuse the pun). "...What is...the year?"_

_The boy looked slightly confused. "Why...it is the year 1588, Captai-"_

"_Captain!" a voice suddenly shouted from the crow's nest, and Antonio's head shot up so fast he felt like he'd given himself whiplash. "The enemy has spotted us! They've raised a second flag!"_

_Just when he was getting used to being in control, Antonio suddenly found himself riding backseat, again. "What flag?" he demanded, shouting just loud enough to be heard from where the lookout was._

"_The flag of the British empire! It rests just below their '_Jolly Rodger'_!" the man said, the last two words undoubtedly in English. Antonio swore—though he couldn't understand why just yet—and immediately set about, calling out orders._

_The next moments were all a blur, time seemed to move so fast. Antonio didn't know how much time was passing, just that it was doing just that. The ships clashed, the smell of gunpowder and the thunder of cannons eliminating the smell and sound of salt and waves._

_Next thing he knew, they were being boarded. The British pirates rushed across the boarding planks yelling at the tops of their lungs, and immediately set upon Antonio's crew. Antonio was right in the middle of it, sword flashing. On the inside,he was practically screaming for it all to stop. He wasn't a fighter! Somehow, his body knew the motions, dodging, slashing, pivoting, not even flinching when a small splatter of blood hit his cheek._

_The Spaniard began to calm down. It was a hallucination, after all. Nothing bad would happen, and even if he did get hurt, he probably wouldn't feel anyth-_

_A flash of red and blond was the only warning he had, before his feet were swept from underneath him, his head hitting the deck with a painful crack, though not hard enough to knock him out. Quickly, he tried to get up, then froze when he felt cold steel against his neck._

"Don't even try it._"_

_Antonio slowly lowered hit head again, until the back rested against the deck once more. Around him, he could hear the sounds of fighting dying away, leaving only the moans of the wounded. They'd lost._

"Well, well, well..." _drawled the voice from earlier. With a jolt, Antonio realized that the man was __speaking English, and his eyes slowly travel upwards. For a brief moment, his eyes rested on the bright red coat draped over the man's shoulders—he _knew_ that coat, _despised _it—before moving up to lock on to the face. Green eyes watched him from under heavy eyebrows and messy blond bangs. The man's mouth was set in a smug smirk._

_Antonio stared. This was...the librarian. What the heck was Arthur Kirkland doing in his hallucination about pirates, and why the heck was he on the winning side?_

"You should 'ave turned tale an' gone crawlin' back to your King while you 'ad the chance," _Arthur sneered._ "I gave you plenty o' warning. Or were you really stupid enough to think you could beat me?"

_Antonio stayed silent. Not only was his body not allowing him to speak, he also didn't want to antagonize the person currently holding the sword and pinning him to the deck of his own ship. With a pang, he realized that his men were all probably dead, Arthur's crew was merciless—how did he know that?-and they wouldn't risk leaving any survivors to take revenge._

_Arthur seemed amused by Antonio's lack of comeback. "_Well..._" he began, trailing the point of his sword gently up the Spaniard's neck to his jaw line before sheathing it. Antonio didn't make a move to get up. There was no point in fighting when completely surrounded._

"Well," _the Pirate began again, crossing his arms and looking Antonio directly in the eye. _"You're precious armada will never defeat me. You're _mine_, Spain."

"_Antonio!"_

"Antonio!"

"ANTONIO!"

The brunet sat bolt-upright, only to fall over clutching his head when he collided with Gilbert. Francis merely snickered at the two. Gilbert glared.

"_Not_ funny. 'Tonio's got a really hard head. _You_ try butting heads with him sometime," the German snapped.

Through the confusion and the pounding of his head, Antonio managed to catch a hidden meaning in that, only to have it slip away as Francis spoke to him.

"Are you alright, mon ami?" he asked, looking worried. "You just passed out all of a sudden."

Slowly, Antonio shook his head, getting to his feet. He swallowed nervously, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

"I-I'm not...really sure..." he replied.

Neither of them notice the predatory grin on Prussia's face.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Greece squeezed his eyes shut tighter, not moving. He was back a the pet store, and someone was trying to get his attention by banging on the counter. Heracles just wished they'd leave him alone and let him sleep...

Eventually, the country heard a sigh and the rustle of cloth. And the Cat Fancy magazine he'd been using to block the sunlight was lifted from his face. Blinking owlishly, Greece slid his feet off the counter and sat up straight, rubbing his eyes a bit as they got re-used to the light.

"Finally. I've been trying to get your attention for the past seven minutes," a voice grumbled.

Greece looked up, then sighed. "Hey, Hong Kong..." he mumbled, absently petting Corporal Cat when it rubbed against his leg. The cat had followed him back through the Rip after showing him the way out, and had refused to leave his side since then.

Hong Kong face-palmed. "You...were you really asleep, or were you just ignoring me?" the Asian country asked. Greece simply shrugged.

"What's up?" he asked, wanting to change the subject. The other country was silent for a moment before answering.

"Perfects have been watching me a little too closely. I thought I might hang out here for a bit until they find something else to occupy them. Norway's on his way over, too. After the confrontation he had with that one Perfect, Amy or something, we both decided it would be best to get him to safety for a bit."

Heracles nodded. Hong Kong was the one they had traveling throughout this made up world, monitoring their progress, and reporting what happened back to what Prussia called 'Home Base'. It was from these progress reports that they decided what to do next, or determined if they needed backup.

"We might need to have a meeting, soon..." the Mediterranean country pointed out.

Hong Kong nodded, though he didn't go on. What Greece had said made sense. It was actually kind of obvious. Things were just starting to go a little out of control. America was in the hospital, which they obviously hadn't planned on, South Korea was here, which they had planned on though it was still going to be a problem in the future, and there were still a bunch of other countries they had yet to locate in this made-up world. They also needed to discuss what...Canada...may have found out about the Perfects after his attack.

"Can you close down the store when Norway and Prussia get here?" Hong Kong asked, breaking Greece from his thoughts. He nodded, then blinked. "Prussia's...coming?" he asked, pretty sure that this hadn't been mentioned before.

The smaller country nodded, holding up his cell phone. "I thought it would be better to have the meeting now, so I texted him," he explained.

Both looked up at the sound of the door chime, immediately relaxing when they saw who it was. Norway nodded slightly, though he looked a little more broody than usual, in Greece's opinion. Five minutes later, Prussia arrived, a huge grin on his face.

"Good news?" Greece asked, since no one else seemed willing. Not that he really cared, either.

Prussia's grin, if possible, widened. "Fuck, yeah! It was awesome, I-"

"Save it for the meeting," Hong Kong interrupted. Gilbert glared at him for a moment, but relented. Apparently the idea of having a bigger audience for his story was more appealing.

With this, Greece locked up the pet store for the day, and unlocked the back room, holding the door for the others as they went in. Norway said nothing as he went through the Rip, and Prussia looked a little green. Greece didn't blame him. The trip through that thing was pretty nasty. Just before Hong Kong went through, he stopped, taking out his phone.

Greece watched in mild curiosity as the Asian country checked the number with a frown, large eyebrows knit together, then shrugged and answered.

"What's wrong Sealand?" he asked, not even bothering with the greeting. There was a pregnant pause...

"England is _what?_"

I_I_I_I_I_I_I_I_I_I

Looking down at his phone, Peter bit his lip. The screen said 'call ended' then that big number that he never paid any attention to. He never thought he'd have to use the phone. The thing was only given to him 'in case of emergency', and he was just watching the Jerk. What could go wrong?

At least, that's what he'd thought _before_ something had _actually_ gone wrong.

He actually didn't _know_ what was wrong. The Jerk had seemed fine when he'd come home from the hospital. Maybe a little twitchy since those weird meds were wearing off—Sealand was pretty proud of that little bit—but otherwise, he'd seemed fine.

That morning, Peter had found England on the corner of his room, the lights off, seemingly staring at nothing. Nothing he'd done had been able to snap the Jerk out of it, and he'd tried just about _everything_ he could think of. The Jerk just wouldn't focus. It was like his body was there, but his mind was gone. Like a horror movie, or a suspense novel, or something.

Eventually, Sealand had been forced to call 911, and after dialing the wrong number first (he'd forgotten it was different in the U.S. and had dialed 999) an ambulance had come to pick the Jerk up, and had taken him away. After that, Peter had called Hong Kong. Now, the boy was all alone.

A knock at the door broke Sealand from his thoughts, and the blond boy shoved the cell phone into his pocket before making his way over. After a moment's hesitation, Sealand opened the door, fully expecting it to be some big buff guy come to kidnap him. After all, that's why adults told you not to open the door when you were home alone, right?

Nope. To Sealand's relief (and disappointment) it was just some skinny brown-haired college kid. The kid blinked when he saw Peter, then cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Er...hi. You're Arthur's brother...Peter, right?" the kid said. When Peter only narrowed his eyes, nodding his head, the kid continued.

"Ah...you don't know me, I'm Leonas...and you really don't care about that," Leo decided, studying the look on Peter's face.

Peter rolled his eyes. Well, _duh._ Took the guy long enough. After another moment of awkward silence, Leonas ran a hand through his hair and started again.

"Look, Berwald called me saying that Arthur didn't come in to work this morning, and since I still had a couple hours before I had to be in class, I thought I come over and see if everything was okay," he finally explained.

Peter's face fell. "He's...not here."

Leo blinked. "Huh?" he said intelligently (note the sarcasm).

"The ambulance probably arrived at the hospital a little while ago. I had to call nine-nine...er nine-_one-_one," he said, not sure why he was telling the kid all this.

By now, Leonas' face vaguely resembled that of a fish. "He...he..._why_?" he sputtered.

Peter shrugged. "Wasn't moving. He's not dead," he added quickly, seeing the older boy's face go white. "Just...not responding...um...don't you need to get to class?" He put that last part in a subtle attempt to get rid of Leo. He was _pretty sure_ he wasn't supposed to be telling so much. He didn't know why he was so talkative, but now all he wanted was to get Leonas to go away so he could go to the meeting with the others.

For a moment, the brunet seemed to flounder, then he looked at his watch and swore. "I'm gonna be late! Thanks kid, bye!" he said hurriedly, taking off in the direction of the university.

Peter watched him until he was out of sight before grabbing his backpack, remembering to lock the door before he took off down the street in the direction opposite the one Leo had gone. He didn't want to be late, either.

O_O_O_O_O_O

"Is everyone here?"

Matthew's question went unanswered, the noise level in the room not diminishing in the least. Everyone was crammed into his living room, though crammed wasn't really the right word. It was a pretty spacious living room. Everyone was also talking, except Greece who was asleep. Either way, no one noticed him at all.

"I'm here!" Sealand screamed as he ran into the room, causing the other countries to shut up and look at him. The blond boy blinked, then sat down.

"We didn't start, yet?" he asked.

"Er..."

"Nah, no one's really tried to start it off, yet," the Netherlands, said with a shrug, his foot no longer elevated. As countries, they healed faster than normal humans. By now, Holland wasn't even wearing a cast, simply wrapping the foot up as though he'd simply sprained it.

"You guys..."

Seychelles tilted her head, twirling a lock of hair around one finger. "Well...shouldn't _someone_ try to start?" she said, looking around at everyone else.

"WOULD YOU HOSERS SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE?"

Complete and utter silence. Not even a cricket was chirping.

Canada smiled. "Ah...much better—_before_ any of you ask, I'm _Canada_. Everyone good on that? Excellent. Let's get this meeting started, shall we?"

There was a chorus of nods, and Prussia snickered, taking another sip of his beer.

Canada plus tons of stress minus hockey equals: Krakatoa on steroids.

O_O_O_O_O_O

Blue eyes fluttered open, and he groaned. Rolling over, he brought both hands to cover his face, head pounding. Of course, this just made the rest of him hurt, eliciting another moan of pain. Ugh, today was _not_ his day...

Suddenly, everything came flooding back, and Alfred sat up, eyes wide as he glanced around. Where was he?

It looked like a room. Actually...it looked like _his_ room. Okay, that was just plain freaky. But the more he looked, the more convinced he was that this was his room. Slowly, Alfred got up and shuffled over to the door, cracking it open and peering outside. He shut it almost immediately.

Okay, maybe not his room. After all, _his_ room was supposed to be in _his_ house, right? And what he'd seen was _not_ his house. His house wasn't that big. Yet...after a moment's hesitation, he opened the door again, stepping outside of the room that looked like his.

If this wasn't his house, then why did it feel like he was home? Confused, the blond shook his head, then noticed his attire and blushed. Okay, he did _not_ want to be found in someone else's house in a hospital gown. _No way in hell_.

Stepping back into the room he went to the closet, hesitating for a moment, but eventually opening it. He blinked. Okay, so the room looked exactly like his...and it had all of his clothes in the closet. Freakyfreakyfreaky.

Shaking his head once more and mumbling something about aliens, the teenager grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, feeling _a lot_ more secure once he had proper clothes on. Alfred was about to close the closet door, but something stopped him. He found himself scanning the closet again, unable to shake the feeling that something was missing.

There.

His eyes had landed on a jacket, one he _knew_ he didn't own. It was brown leather WWII bomber jacket with the number fifty on the back. He'd been wanting one of these since he was a kid, but despite years of searching, had never found the one he'd wanted. Just looking at this jacket Alfred only had one thought: _MINE_.

Quickly, he slipped the jacket on, the weight of it feeling strangely familiar on his shoulders. After admiring it for a minute or two, the teen gave himself a mental slap to bring his mind out of dream-land, and stepped out of the room again, closing the door behind him.

Silently, Alfred made his way down the hall, his bare feet making no noise on the soft carpet. He wasn't sure how, but he knew he was headed towards the living room. The whole house was dark, and as he got closer to the living room he kept seeing lights flashing and heard strange noises...

Blue eyes blinked. _"_Is that the T.V...?" whispered to himself, curiosity getting the better of him.

Just like the rest of the house, the room was dark. If he squinted, he could make out a shape in the middle of the room, sitting on a large floor cushion. It looked kind of like a really small person...a kid or something, with a blanket over them, playing what looked like Modern Warfare 2.

Alfred's heart leaped into his throat when the game paused, and the figure shifted.

"Oh. You're home."

Woohoo! That was much longer. :3 And it had a whole bunch of good stuff in it. I'll bet you guys can guess who the person playing video games is! He's not playing on Live. D: Even though that's the best part of owning an xbox!

PIRATES! I hope it was awesome enough. Spain and Iggy as pirates makes me squeal like a fangirl every time, so I REALLY wanted to have that in there. :3 I felt silly writing a typical pirate accent...so I gave Iggy a mild workingclassEnglish accent. VERY mild. O.o You guys probably didn't really notice, though...

Krakatoa! Does anyone remember that volcano? O.o Its been stuck in my head for a whole two weeks, now, so I thought I might as well fit it in there...

Yeah, the part where Mattie explodes is actually based on something I did in class, the other day. It always takes me five tries to get the teacher's attention, so when someone started talking over me...I yelled at them at the top of my lungs. I've never heard my classmates get so quiet. O.o

Iggy's in the hospital! D: There's a reason for that though. You'll find out soon enough. The faeries should probably try to lay off for a bit, though. O.o

The part in the pirate flashback where they were supposed to be speaking in Spanish? Yeah, kinda fail on my part. I was too lazy to actually look up the words in Spanish...so, yeah. Sorry to all Spanish speakers, though at the same time, you should feel relieved. Any attempt I'd have made would have burned your eyes out of your head. XD

1 am, and I finally got finished with this...I should probably go to sleep, since I need to walk to school tomorrow...

Okay, new note! Its 8 am, now, my computer froze up while I was uploading, so I just went to bed. :/ But here's the chapter,now! :D

Anyways! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!


	10. Chapter 10

Ah...back again. I noticed that I've been missing a few characters...or, at least I haven't had them around much. Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, and the Baltics (Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia). Since I haven't really explained much of what's been going on with them...I'm going to use up a whole chapter, and show what's been happening with them while everything else has been going on in the other chapters. Sort of like a spin-off...but not. O.o

Um...yeah. So, does anyone remember where we last saw Ivan? It was back in chapter four (oh my goodness...that's pretty far, eh? Try to remember!...or re-read, lol) he was being called down to the school's office. But...what happened after that?

Here it is, have fun! :D

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

**A Few Days Earlier...**

Its amazing how much heat can irritate you. You think you need it...until you feel like you're melting into your shoes. Then, all you want is for General Winter to come back, make everything better, again. Make it cold.

That's how she felt, right now.

Natalia glared at the heater that resided in the same house as she and her siblings. Yes, she, Katyusha, and her precious Ivan all lived together. After their parents had died, all they'd had left was each other, so they'd stuck together, never really trying to move away from each other.

This heater, however...this heater could go die in a nice, deep hole. Her Ivan didn't like the cold, she knew that, but he most likely didn't want to come home to a desert in the middle of his living room, either. Angrily, she kicked the stupid piece of machinery, wincing when the action only sent another wave of heat through the room.

With a groan, Natalia collapsed onto the couch, head in her hands. This was _so_ not a good day. Why were her days off work never good? She'd like at least one. A day where she could kick back, without Natalia, and go all sorts of places with her Ivan...yes. That would be a _perfect_ day.

Reluctantly, she decided to stop ignore the device that had been buzzing busily (YES! An alliteration! XD) away on her coffee table this whole time, and answered her cell phone.

"_Oh, Sister! You didn't answer your phone, and I was starting to get worried..."_ she heard Katyusha begin. Natalia decided to cut her sister off there.

"I've been having trouble with the heater," the girl sighed, tapping her foot. "We might have to call someone."

There was a soft '_ahhh_' of understanding from the other line. _"It still won't shut off?_"

Natalia shook her head, then remembered that she was on the phone and couldn't been seen. Nobody saw her slight blush of embarrassment. "Yeah. By the way, why are you calling? If the hospital needs me, you can remind them its my day off. If Sadiq needs me you can tell him to-"

"Ah! No, no, no. I was just wondering if brother was home."

Natalia blinked at this, and glanced at the clock on the wall. "Nooo..." she said slowly. "Though, I'm not sure why you would think he'd be home. I'm pretty sure he's still in class." Her Ivan wasn't supposed to be home for another hour.

"Oh...he hasn't called?" Katyusha asked, sounding slightly defeated.

"No, he hasn't. What's going on?" Natalia snapped, her patience wearing thin.

"Well, Toris just called me. Apparently, Ivan was call down to the office a little while ago, and now no one can find him..."

The phone dropped from numb fingers.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

The first thing he became aware of was the cold. So cold, so cold...

Purple eyes fluttered open, Ivan sat up slowly, trying to ignore how sore he felt. And cold. He was only wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, though his boots were warm enough...wait, why was it cold? Confused, the Russian glanced around, trying to take in his surroundings amid the confusion clouding his mind.

He was in the middle of a snowy clearing. Other than the spot beneath him, nothing else seemed disturbed. There were no footprints to show how he'd gotten here. Looking closer, he found that he was surrounded by a forest covered in white. It reminded him of...of...

Ivan shook his head, not really sure where that train of thought had been going, and got to his feet. Questions swirled in his head. Where was he? How had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered was walking into the main office, then...then...

Ivan stumbled a bit, grabbing his head as it began to throb. What had happened next?

The crunch of snow behind him snapped him out of it, and Ivan spun around, purple eyes wide. For a moment, he thought he'd been imagining things, that no one was there. Then, as cliché as it sounds, a dark figure stepped out from behind a tree at the edge of the clearing.

The figure was not tall. At least, not as tall as Ivan. It seemed almost reluctant to leave the tree it stood next to, a hand resting on the bark. The Russian tried to see who it was, but the person's face was obscured by the hood of their black hoodie.

"Hello?" Ivan called rather hesitantly.

The hand that rested so carefully on the bark fell almost carelessly to the figure's side. "Hello, Ivan," they replied. The voice was male, young, maybe a teenager's. It was also...familiar, he just couldn't quite place it. "You're in quite the situation, Ivan," the voice continued.

Ivan blinked. "I am?"

"Yup," the person agreed, sounding rather cheerful. "You've been taken hostage. This is your prison, by the way."

The Russian frowned. Hostage? Prison? What was this guy talking about? He had no time to ask, since the strange person had started talking, again.

"Yes, you're a hostage. _My_ hostage to be exact. To ensure some...good behaviour."

Now Ivan was _really_ confused, but found that his voice refused to work, and his head...He brought a hand to his head. Why wouldn't his head stop **pounding**?

"This is also quite an effective prison, as well. A favourite creation of mine. It takes a place from your memories, and traps you inside. Beautiful, really..."

From...his memories? This place was...was...**where?** He _knew_ this place. He just...did. How? Why couldn't he remember?

_**Why does my head hurt so much?**_

Despite the pounding—_was he on his knees?_-Ivan managed to register a sigh.

"You know, I _really_ didn't want to do this. She could have been a good girl. Could have done as she was told, forgotten everything, just like the rest of you-" _**What?**_ "-But she forced my hand. In the end, you can blame what's happening now on her."

There was a long pause, and Ivan managed to focus on his captor through the pain. The man—_boy?_-waved.

"Goodbye. I'll be back, later," he said—_promised?-_ and turned away.

Desperately, Ivan reached out, fingers grasping uselessly at the air. Then, the pain became too much, and he succumbed to darkness.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Ivan didn't come home that night.

Katyusha had been frantic, running around the house, calling everyone their brother even _vaguely_ knew. Anyone who might have come in contact with him, seen him. Anyone who might have the slightest idea...

But no one had.

Eventually, Katyusha had fallen asleep on the couch, the phone still clutched tightly in her hand. Natalia gently laid a blanket over her sister, noting the raw, red look around her eyes.

_She must have cried herself to sleep..._

Natalia didn't know what to feel. At first, she'd been panicked, horrified. Of all the things, no. Of all the _people..._

Then, she'd gotten angry, _furious._ She'd seen red, and had ended up needing to bandage her burnt and bleeding hands. The metal heater had still been too hot to touch when she'd ripped it apart, the scraps of metal sharper than she'd anticipated.

She'd had to get rid of the remains before Katyusha had come home. Luckily, her sister had been so distraught over their brother, she hadn't noticed Natalia's hands _or_ this missing heater.

Eyes hard and cold, Natalia glanced at the cell phone on the table. Now that Katyusha was asleep, all she had to do was wait. Five minutes later, the phone went off. The girl quickly snatched the device up, ignoring the pain in her hands—they'd heal in a day or two, anyway. After all, she was-

"_Hello, Miss Belarus."_

"**Where is he?**" she immediately snarled.

"_I love you, too,"_ the voice snarked back. _"Really, is that any way to greet someone? I suppose you were waiting for my call, then?"_

Belarus remained silent, jaw clenched.

"_You were? How sweet,"_ her enemy teased.

"Just tell me where my Ivan is," the nation snapped.

"_He's safe...for now."_

The line went dead.

Five seconds later, another number called, causing Belarus to blink in confusion. Hesitantly, she answered.

"Hello?"

"_Sorry about that, my cell died," _the voice of her enemy said.

Belarus nearly dropped the phone out of shock.

"Wh-why the hell did you _call back?_" she asked incredulously.

There was a slight pause.

"_Well...I wasn't done talking to you,"_ he replied, as if this was obvious.

At this, Belarus had to resist the strong urge to throw her phone out the window. How had they all been caught by _this_ idiot?

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

The next few hours passed in a blur, and the next thing she knew it was already morning. Natalia was like a zombie as she went through the morning motions. She felt hollow. Even as she pushed her enemy's words from last to the back of her mind, they just kept coming back.

It was all her fault. Her Ivan was in danger, all because of her. Had she seriously thought that she could get away with it? All the snooping around, the defiance, trying to find a way out? Her enemy had already given her two warnings, catching her in the act. Now, she was finally paying the price. Third strike, she was out. How could she have been so stupid?

"так глупой..."

"Did you say something?"

Natalia violently pulled herself from her thoughts and quickly reassessed her surroundings. Sitting in the dining room, at the table. Right. Breakfast in front of her—Katyusha cooked? Sister giving her a worried look from across the table...

Belarus smiled tightly in response to the look, ignoring the earlier question. "I'm fine." _Lies._ "Did you call the police?"

Katyusha's eyes dropped to her plate, but she nodded. "They're sending someone over to get the details so they can start a search. Is...is it alright if I stay home?"

The nation blinked, not sure why her Ukrainian sister was asking permission. She'd thought it was obvious that Katyusha would be staying home. She hadn't let go of the phone since last night.

"It's fine," she said, then narrowed her eyes dangerously, pointing a finger at her sister almost accusingly. "_But_. If Ivan comes home while I'm gone, I _don't care_ how happy you are. You _are not_ allowed to suffocate him!"

Katyusha blinked, then blushed bright red, crossing her arms over her ample chest and refusing to meet Natalia's eyes.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

She still felt hollow as she walked into the hospital, that day. What was she supposed to do? Her brother was gone...

Natalia stopped in her tracks and blinked. "Kiku?" she blurted, making the Japanese man turn around in surprise. He quickly composed himself and bowed politely.

"Good morning, Natalia-san," he greeted. Belarus was flabbergasted. Kiku never came to the hospital! Or, at least he never had to. He was one of the healthiest people she knew of. She hadn't even met him in the hospital, unlike many of the other people she knew.

Belarus quickly shook her head. No! Those memories weren't her's, weren't real. As soon as she thought that, though, she winced. Wasn't that the same attitude that had gotten her brother 'taken'? Maybe she should just let it go...

"Natalia-san?"

Kiku's voice broke her from her thoughts, and she quickly recomposed herself, though not as fast as Kiku had just a few seconds before.

"What are you _doing_ here?" she demanded. "You didn't go and do something stupid, **did you?**"

The black-haired man blinked, his right foot shifting back ever so slightly as he brought his hands up in the universal 'woah Nellie' gesture.

"Ah! No, no! Its not me, its my brothers..." he began.

The girl blinked. "Oh?" she pressed, one delicate eyebrow raised.

Kiku sighed, lowering his hands. He looked...embarrassed. After a few moments of hesitation, he told her.

"Yong Soo managed to superglue his hand to Yao-nii's chest..." he mumbled.

Wicked laughter could be heard throughout the hospital. Kiku winced, but was unable to voice his protest as Dr. Adnan walked over. Kiku stared at the doctor's failure to remove the surgical mask as Natalia caught her breath.

"Good afternoon, doctor," Kiku greeted. Natalia blinked.

"Wait, didn't you just tell me goo morning?" she asked.

"It's five after twelve, now," the Japanese man replied.

Sadiq cleared his throat. "Natalia, where were you and your sister, this morning? I could have used your help," the Turkish man said, sounding a bit grumpy.

The Belarusian blinked, then frowned. "We were dealing with a police officer this morning, and Katyusha called in. Why? What happened?"

"Some idiot kid got himself hit by a truck," Sadiq groaned, rubbing his face with his free hand since his other held a mug of coffee.

_Must have been a tough morning._

"What about you?" he asked. "Why were the police at your house?"

Kiku nodded slightly, showing his own curiosity in a more subtle way.

Natalia's good mood vanished completely as the memories returned full-force.

"My brother's missing," she said flatly, brushing past the two to go and tend to her patients.

O_O_O_O_O_O

"Natalia, you have anew patient in room 3112."

With a sigh, Belarus got up, swiftly brushing past the other nurses. She got to the room just as she finished putting her hair in a ponytail. Hardly bothering to glance at the name, the nurse flipped through the chart—the patient's appendix had just been removed—and walked into the room.

There was a lump under the covers, and a mess of blond hair on the pillows. He was asleep.

With another sigh, she went over to the bed, checking the bags feeding into his IV. One had to be replaced, it was nearly empty. She might as well replace the other one, too-

"Ew, this atmosphere is so, like, depressing. Gross."

Belarus froze, hand halfway to its destination. Eyes wide, she slowly turned her head to lock eyes with her Polish patient.

_Oh God, no._

Feliks sat up and yawned, running a hand through his hair with a grimace.

"Ew, ew, ew! My hair is, like, _so_ gross right now. It's, like, so tangled, and oh-em-gee you won't believe it but I, like, haven't even been allowed to shower! It's, like, a _total_ nightmare!" the blond—man? No, not quite—moaned, flopping back onto the hospital bed in his distress, a hand resting on his forehead.

Feliks moved his hand slightly, then, to get a better look at his nurse.

Green eyes blinked. "Oh, hey! You're, like, that girl Liet is always talking about. Like, that creep Russia's sister, right? Your name was, like, Bella-something..." Poland said, pointing at her.

Belarus' eye twitched and her shock at the situation quickly dissipated. The female nation smiled widely, taking her new patient's hand in both of her's.

"Poland! It's simply _wonderful_ to find that you remember! _**Don't call my Ivan a creep.**_"

Feliks pulled his hand away with a sharp gasp, staring at his mutilated fingers.

"That is _so_ uber-gross! Like,to the max!" he whined, making Natalia's eye twitch, again. She froze when he went on. "And now your super-creepy aura is mixing with your totally depressed one! Don't you know how _frizzy_ my hair is gonna get? Chill out, would you?"

"Chill out? _Chill out_?" Belarus practically shrieked. "My brother's been taken hostage, there's no way to get him back, its all _my_ _fault_, and you want me to _chill out_?" She threw her hands into the air in her anger.

Poland blinked, but seemed unconcerned as he went about straightening his fingers.

"Well, _duh_, there's no way to get him back," he said above the popping and cracking of his fingers, making Natalia blink. "I mean, you're so, like, busy feeling all depressed and junk, that you haven't even _tried_, yet. You totally can't rescue someone when you're just sitting around, feeling all disgustingly sorry for yourself. It, like, plays havoc with your acne. You should stop before you, like, become a pizza face and someone tries to connect the dots, or something gross like that."

Belarus felt like she'd just been slapped in the face. Poland was _right_ (not about the acne). Her eyes narrowed. She'd been so busy feeling sorry for herself, it _was_ disgusting. Why had she let those words from last night get to her? This was _her_ precious Ivan. How _dare _that stupid human boy take him away! She was the Republic of Belarus, the words her enemy had said over the phone meant _nothing_ in the face of her love for Russia.

The thing she was angriest about? It was _Poland_ who had reminded her of that.

_Great. Now I owe him a pony._

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O

It took her the rest of the day, and a good part of the next day, to finally come up with something of a plan. She'd just been telling Soren, who'd come in complaining about his recent migraines, that they needed to give him a CAT scan, when it hit her. The _perfect_ idea, and so effective!

Quickly, she sent Soren off for his scan, and went on a very short break. Finding a place with good reception, she made three calls. This is where her plan failed, slightly. She needed all three of the people she'd called, and only one was available (though he always seemed available for her). Fuming, she put her plans to the side for the day.

The next day, she had better luck. All three would be available to her after work. Even luckier, Katyusha was going into work that day, and she worked later hours than Belarus, so she'd have the house all to herself. It had taken some convincing to get Katyusha to go, but Natalia had promised to get home earlier than usual to watch the phones—_lies_-just in case someone called about their brother.

"Sister!" Katyusha called, jogging over. It was only five minutes until she could leave. _What does she want?_

"Umm..." Katyusha began. "Before you go, could you check to make sure the new patient in room 3112 settles in alright?" she asked,shuffling her feet a bit.

Natalia sighed. "Fine..." she mumbled, and her sister gave her a wide smile.

After getting into an elevator that was a bit crowded for her liking, Belarus made it to her usual floor, and walked over to room 3112, picking up the chart and flipping through briefly. When she walked in, she nearly stopped in her tracks at the sight of her new patient, but forced herself to keep going. She tried to make as little contact as possible as she checked on him, and gave him a tight smile before sweeping out of the room.

Well...that was over. Time to go home and get ready to set some plans in motion.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Her three new lackeys arrived one at a time, but all had managed to come. Toris was the first to arrive, then Raivis, and then a rather wary Eduard. Belarus smiled happily as she got them all settled on the couch, nervously waiting to hear what she had to say.

"Well, then," she began once everyone was settled. "Thank you for coming, Toris-" the Lithuanian nodded nervously. "-Raivis-" the Latvian flinched. "-and..." In a split second, her eyes took in every detail of Eduard, her mind doing he math and giving her an unexpected, but pleasant answer. "..._Estonia._"

Now, it was Eduard's turn to flinch, while the others just looked confused. Natalia smirked triumphantly.

"Oh, _wonderful._ Then you can lead these two," she purred.

"Wait, what?" Toris blurted out. "What's going on?"

"Well," Belarus began. "My brother has been kidnapped, and _you three_ are going to help me find out where he is. _**Alright?**_"

Sometimes, she could amaze even herself with her persuasiveness.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

"So, there's another new patient?" Natalia asked her coworker, Jessica. The other nurse nodded.

"Yeah, his younger brother called for an ambulance this morning," she explained, tucking a lock of black hair behind her ear as she led Belarus over to the room. "He's completely catatonic. He's been in the stupor for hours, now, but there's still no telling when he'll come out of it."

The female nation nodded thoughtfully. "I see...and there's still no sign of Jones?" she asked casually.

Jessica shook her head. "No, not since yesterday. Its like he just disappeared into thin air..." she mumbled, looking worried.

Natalia was smirking inside. Of course Jessica was worried. After all, she'd lost track of a very important country, she was probably going to get chewed out as soon as Natalia's enemy caught wind of the failure. And with America missing, it would cause her enemy and all his perfect little lackeys to focus on tracking the blond idiot down instead of her Baltic lackeys, who were snooping around for her. Maybe America wasn't as useless as she'd thought.

"Guys!" Natalia and Jessica both looked up as another nurse caught up with them.

"What's wrong?" Jessica asked, perfect lips pressed into a worried frown.

"Its Arthur Kirkland, the catatonic patient on our floor. He just woke up!"

Wow, sorry all. That took longer than I thought. O.o

I've been trying to write, but a whole bunch of stuff just keeps happening, back home. First my grandfather's in the hospital with cancer...then my dad had to go to the hospital cause he starts bleeding out of a main artery...yeah, not a good year for me, _or_ my family. O.o

I don't know how long the next update is going to take, since all of this craziness is going on, but I'll do my best to get the next chapter in quickly.

Sorry about spelling or grammar mistakes. I tried to look this chapter over, but its two in the morning, and my vision is getting kind of blurry, so I might have missed a bunch of stuff. :\

Still, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!


	11. Chapter 11

Uwah!

I'm sooooooo sorry for the delay, everyone! Things have just been so rough...what with my grandfather being in and out of the hospital, and me moving back to (as my friend Alastor put it) back to the Motherland...then writer's block hit just as we got out internet back. =_=

Anyways, I've tried breaking through my writer's block, so hopefully this chapter will be okay...

Hope you all enjoy!

O_O_O_O_O_O

He kept still as a light was shone in first one, then the other eye. The light clicked off, and he blinked his green eyes reflexively. The doctor paused for a moment, taking in the nearly blank green stare, before clearing his throat. He'd woken up barely five minutes ago to find that he was in the hospital. Of course, as soon as he'd woken up, everyone had freaked out.

"So, ," the doctor began, and Arthur blinked, focusing on the man in front of him. It wasn't a doctor he knew, not that he'd been to the hospital much while living in this town. "Good to see you're finally awake. Your brother called you in. Apparently, he found you catatonic in your room."

"_He did..."_

"_Its true! Its true!"_

"_Sorry!"_

He was fishing. Subtly asking what had happened. Arthur raised a fuzzy eyebrow, but remained silent. The doctor sighed, flipping through the chart. "It says here you take medication for...schizophrenia? And that this has happened once before when you were a child-" did it really? How convenient. "-because you'd stopped taking it-" 'It' being the medication, of course.

"_Silly, silly..."_

"_No, stupid!"_

Arthur blinked, realizing that the doctor had still been talking. "Pardon?"

The doctor frowned. "I asked if you've been...'seeing' anything, Mr. Kirkland," he repeated rather bluntly.

"_Hee hee..."_

"_Don't tell..."_

"_Don't tell!"_

"_Our..."_

Arthur blinked, his eyes never wandering from the doctor's face.

"_Little..."_

"Of course not. I've been taking my medication every day."

"_Secret..."_

The doctor frowned, searching Arthur's face. "Have you?" he prompted. Arthur sighed.

"Yes," he replied, sincerity in his voice.

"_Liar, liar!"_

"_Teehee..."_

"_Our little liar!"_

The doctor seemed to believe him, only asking him a few more questions before leaving the room. Arthur closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the pillow of his hospital bed. His head hurt. That was putting it mildly. All the thoughts ans images swirling around in his head...

"_What a stupid doctor."_

"_Stupid, stupid!"_

"_Don't they usually do more?"_

"_More, more, much more..."_

"_Like a detox..."_

"_Making sure he's still taking them..."_

"_But he didn't."_

"_And he hasn't."_

"_Good boy."_

"_Our little liar."_

"_Our little secret..."_

"_God boy, good boy..."_

"_Arthur..."_

"_Arthur..."_

"_Wake up and play..."_

"_England!"_

Green eyes snapped open, and bushy brows snapped together as he frowned up at the faeries fluttering about the room.

"I'm not playing a bleeding game with you!" he growled. "Let me sleep, already!"

They didn't listen, of course they didn't. They only helped him when it was convenient for them, like just a few hours ago. They'd helped him remember only because they'd been bored. It was hard to be more than just annoyed with them, though. After all, the Fae were basically just children. Tiny, fluttery, magical children.

No wonder Ireland was afraid of them.

Or was it Wales?

It was one of his brothers, he just couldn't ever remember exactly which...

England gave himself a mental slap. Focus! It was hard, but he needed to focus. Convince the doctors that he was perfectly fine, get back to Sealand...had the brat thrown away his pills? Clever boy...

Clever boy who probably knew more about what was going on than England did, himself. As soon as he got himself out of here, Peter had a _lot_ of explaining to do. And England would keep baking scones until the brat told him _everything_.

O_O_O_O_O

The sun was shining, though there were white wisps of clouds in the sky, and the birds were chirping happily in the trees. At the local park, at least. Somewhere where there were less cars. Somewhere Matthias currently wasn't. Downtown birds made more weird cooing sounds like they were high or something. At least, that's what pigeons usually sounded like to Matthias.

"_Are you sure you're not the one who's high? Shut up and leave the birds alone."_

Crap. It was that voice, again. The Dane shook his head, trying to clear it. Ever since that incident at the library, he'd seen less of his stalker. Yet, every so often he'd hear his stalker's voice in his head, commenting on his thoughts. That was a pretty good—or maybe bad? Whatever—stalker.

His headaches had only gotten worse. He'd actually gone into the hospital to complain about them. His CAT scan hadn't shown anything, so he'd been told to take it easy. They thought it was stress from work getting to him. Yeah, right. By now, Berwald would probably be the one stressed out. Arthur had called from the hospital saying that he would be released some time that day, but he still wasn't coming in to work.

With the Brit in the hospital and Matthias taking the day off, Berwald would be left all alone at work today. Well, not _completely_ alone. That kid Tino had said something about volunteering...

Sighing, the Dane continued along the crowded sidewalk, not even glancing at the people around him. Not that they felt miffed by that at all. Everyone else seemed busy, bustling here and there with something to do. Matthias still wasn't even sure why he'd come downtown in the first place.

This was pointless. His head was starting to hurt again, and all he was doing was walking around town in circles. _I might as well go home_, he decided, making his way to the nearest bus stop. As soon as he got there, he stopped. There, waiting for the bus just a few feet away, was the back of a familiar head. But that was crazy. After all, what were the odds of actually running into _him_? Still...

Careful not to scuff his shoes on the cement and give away his position, Matthias slowly snuck up behind the shorter pale-haired man. As soon as he was close enough he struck, his hands snaking around the other man's body to grope at his chest.

Norge jumped in surprise, only managing to fall back into Matthias' arms, since the Dane had not yet let go. The reaction was hilarious. At least, Matthias thought it was. Norge seemed to think otherwise as he squirmed out of the Dane's grasp and turned around to glare at him.

"You're Norwegian!" Matthais exclaimed before the shorter man could even open his mouth.

The newly dubbed Norwegian man blinked, then sighed. "And how did you figure that one out?" he asked mildly.

Matthias grinned. "Because I'd never greet anyone else like that!"

Norge rolled his eyes. "Will you ever grow up?" he asked, frowning.

"Nope!" the Dane chirped, but quickly quieted. This conversation...felt so natural. Like they'd talked like this hundreds of times before. "How...do I know you? I've never...I _know_ I've never met you before..."

Norge stared at him impassively, but raised a pale eyebrow at this sudden change of topic. "Yeah, so I remembered your name," the blond man said quickly. "But from _where?_ I've never met you before in my life! Then, all of a sudden you come walking into my life. You start stalking me, giving me weird dreams, _no_, not those kinds. Ever since I first saw you I've been getting migraines. I even had to go to the hospital! And now that chick Amy keeps trying to talk to me and-"

"...Okay."

"Wha-?"

There was a sharp sound, and pain bloomed in his right cheek. Matthias brought a hand to his face, stunned. "Did you...did you just...? You _slapped_ me!" he yelled, stumbling over his words. He stared at Norge who seemed more interested in fixing his hair clip.

"Mmm-hmmm..." the Norwegian agreed absently.

"Why the heck did you-!"

_Smack!_

The Dane quickly brought a hand to his other cheek, wincing. "What the-"

"Idiot," Norge interrupted, glaring. Those eyes...they were the same intense eyes that he always saw in his freaky dreams. Matthias took an involuntary step back when the Norwegian tried to step closer.

"I'm tired of waiting, _Danmark!_"

The word shouldn't have meant anything, really. Yet it hit Matthias like a sledgehammer. _Or an ax_. The blond doubled over, holding his head and squeezing his eyes shut. Matthias wanted to tell his stupid brain to just _stop_. He didn't care about the stupid little extra thoughts that kept trailing through his head. Didn't care about the freaky dreams he kept having, or his migraines. He just wanted it all to _stop, stop, sto-!_

"_Then why don't you just wake up, already?"_

He opened his eyes.

Denmark woke up.

O_O_O_O_O_O

"Just be more careful."

Norway rolled his eyes, knowing that the person on the other side couldn't see it. Not that he was going to inform them. "Right," he said, and quickly hit the 'END' button before anything else could be said.

The platinum blond nation frowned at his cell phone, flipping it shut. Yes, it was an older version. But he didn't like texting despite the fact that everyone else loved texting him. Well, maybe not _everyone_ else. Usually it was just one person. He was almost grateful that they hadn't been texting lately.

Unfortunately, he still owed them. That's why he was here. To get those stupid texts back. And maybe...maybe he was doing it because he was...lonely. Scandinavia was too big a chunk of Europe not to share, and he was already so used to the others being there. Maybe he was doing this to get _them_ back, too.

Slipping his phone into his back pocket, the Scandinavian nation made his way over to the bus stop nearby. He needed to get to the library. Not that he _wanted_ to see Denmark. After all, according to Hong Kong the idio—Dane was taking the day off. Maybe he'd find him later. Right now, Norway was more interested in going to harass Sweden and Finland. He'd been so focused on Denmark, he'd been neglecting the rest of his fellow Scandinavians.

Not that it was an accident on his part. Those two weirded him out. He was happy to leave them alone. Unfortunately, he'd been ordered to go...'help'...them.

Suddenly, all of Norway's senses went haywire. Before he could react he was attacked from behind, a strong pair of arms looping around his waist before a pair of hands groped his chest. Norway jumped, not only surprised but also hoping to catch his attacker off-guard. No such luck. The person was taller than him. That ruled out South Korea, but he'd already known who it was.

The Norwegian quickly escaped from the Danish man's grasp and moved just out of his reach before turning around to glare at him.

"You're Norwegian!" the taller man exclaimed. Norway blinked, hope spiking for a moment. The moment passed, and he sighed. Here came a Danish moment...had he really missed these?

"And how did you figure that one out?" he asked, just wanting to get the even over and done with.

Seemingly oblivious to the nation's lack of enthusiasm, Matthias grinned. "Because I'd never greet anyone else like that!" he chirped. _Like a bird_, Norway thought. He hesitated for a moment. That wasn't the end of the phrase. The Dane just didn't seem to remember the rest, yet.

"_Its a tradition in my country to greet you Norgies like that!"_

Norway rolled his eyes. "Will you ever grow up?" he asked, the corners of his mouth reflexively turning down. This seemed to bother Denmark as he suddenly started making strange noises. It sounded like he was trying to talk while eating a potato.

"_slapme!_"

Unable to make out anything else the other blond was saying, Norway nodded.

"...Okay," he said. Matthias looked startled and started to say something, but the shorter man's hand was already in motion. Slapping him felt _so good._ It was like he was releasing all the stress from the last few years all in one go. The feeling was beautiful.

As soon as his hand had stopped Norway realized that his hairclip was coming out, and started to fix it. Halfway through this he realized that Matthias was saying something again, and managed to catch the end of the sentence.

"-You _slapped_ me!"

"Mmm-hmmm..." Norway agreed, finishing with his hairclip. Looking back at the Danish man, he felt a surge of anger. Why the hell was this taking so long? After all this man had put him through throughout history, he went and _forgot_? The stupid, stupid-

His hand was moving again before his brain even registered it.

"Idiot," he growled, taking a step towards the shocked man. "I'm tired of waiting, _Danmark!_"

for one second, it seemed as if his words had had no effect, and Norway was ready to just get on the bus and leave. Then, it almost seemed as though Matthias had been hit again as he took a step back,his hands reaching up to grab his head.

Norway had no time to wonder what was going on however, as one of the worst possible things to happen, happened.

"_You!_"

Norway whipped around as soon as the shriek of rage reached his ears above the noise of the crowded bus stop. There was a yelp from off to the side, and the nation quickly zeroed in on Amy. The Perfect had spotted them together, and was now shoving people to the side as she made her way over to them.

Without thinking, Norway grabbed a startled Matthias' hand and _ran._

_O_O_O_O_OO_

Until now, he'd never thought he'd go to British Columbia, much less _Canada_. Well...maybe Canada. But he'd expected his first trip to Canada to have been with friends as they all went over to have a party and get wasted legally.

He didn't expect to be shipped off on the first flight to British Columbia with only enough money for several buses and an address to a house. The American glanced at the bus, then the address written on the palm of his hand in green ink. Deciding that it was going the right way he quickly got on, moving all the way to the back in an attempt to remain anonymous.

This was actually rather hard for Alfred since he was so used to _having_ everyone look at him, but he managed to get to the back of the bus and sat down without causing too much of a fuss. Nervously, the teen glanced back at the address. Of _course_ Tony had had to write it in _green_ ink. That was so...so...

So, it turned out that the person playing Xbox in that strange house Alfred had mysteriously appeared in was an _alien_. A little gray alien who had been living in that house since the Roswell Incident back in 1947. It was pretty creepy...considering that fact that Tony seemed to _know_ him. Oh, and that house? It was his.

_What?_

Alfred still didn't quite know what was going on, or if he was even still _awake_. He doubted that he was, but at the same time things were just _too_ crazy to _not _ be real. Tony had tried to explain to Alfred several times what was going on. Not that it worked. And it wasn't as if Alfred was stupid. Far from it, actually. Tony was just _really_ bad at explaining things. He kept getting distracted my the television, or he'd put in some alien word in and try to pass it off as French.

Alfred was _pretty sure_ none of those words had been French in origin. He'd lived in the same neighbourhood as Francis Bonnefoy for far too long not to at least recognize what the language sounded like. The words Tony had used? Definitely alien.

It was because of Tony's failure to explain that Alfred was even in Canada, right now. The little alien had muttered something about going to see 'Him', given Alfred the address and some money, and shoved the confused American on the first flight to BC.

Alfred waited until a minute or two after the bus stopped, only getting off after the last person had exited the vehicle. Standing awkwardly on the sidewalk, he glanced at the address before scanning his surroundings. _There it is..._he thought once he'd located the right street.

As he started his trek, he wondered _why_ he was even _doing_ this. Why was he listening to the vague instructions of an alien that had stranded him on the West Coast of Canada? Well...maybe because it was _an alien._ Yeah. That sounded like a pretty good reason. Besides, the blond was hoping that wherever he was going he'd get a better explanation than the ones Tony had given him. Something about kidnappings and separate realities...

Just as he started to pass by one house, the American stopped and did a double-take. The house was _huge_, maybe as big as the one he'd appeared in back in the States. He absently noted that a small section of the driveway had been sectioned off with caution tape, and a large rabbit sat in the front window, munching on a carrot. There was a rainbow of flowers in the front yard, and one rather large bed of tulips seemed to stretch all the way to the back of the house, maybe even into the back yard.

Alfred glanced at his hand, then back up at the house. This was it. The address matched. Taking a deep breath, Alfred walked up to the house and knocked on the door. There was a slight pause before a flurry of noise erupted from inside the house. Alfred winced. It kind of sounded like the one time he'd tripped over the coffee table after spraining his ankle. The howl of pain matched perfectly, thought the voice was different.

"Crikey, you _suck!_"

"That was _awesome!_"

"_Shut up!_ I hate you both!"

"Hate is a passionate emotion. As is love."

"What the _fuck?_"

"Oh dear..."

Alfred blinked at the last voice. It was harder to hear over the yelling of the other people in the house, but it sounded a lot closer. Familiar. It actually sounded like-

The door opened and a pair of purple eyes blinked at him in surprise, then shock. Alfred blinked back, equally stunned. The two stared at each other for several moments, the background noise forgotten. It was Alfred who broke the silence.

"What the _fuck_ is going on, Mattie?"

ooooooooo

All done!

Well, then...

I apologize for any spelling or grammatical mistakes. Like usual, I tried to go back and correct them, but I may have missed a few. :\ Sorry!

A friend of mine absolutely LOVES Norge, so I did that whole section on Norway and Denmark for her. :3 I hope it was okay...I'm still pushing through my writer's block, after all, so I'd like to know what everyone thought about this.

England finally woke up! And he has all of his memories. :3 Yes, the faeries gave them back. Denmark remembers, too, thought Norway doesn't realize that just yet. He's got a bit of a problem on his hands...

I can't help but fit in some jokes from Scandinavia and the World, by Humon. XD Norway and Denmark are just too amazing. According to Humon, it is tradition to greet a Norwegian by groping their chest when you're in Denmark...and Danish people sound like they're eating a potato when they talk. XD These aren't my jokes, these are Humon's. I'm sorry if anyone gets offended...

Alfred made it to BC! Mattie's going to have a _lot_ of explaining to do, lol. Can anyone guess who Norge was talking to on the phone? Bet you can't. :3 They're a new member of the rescue team, and they were in the dialogue in Mattie's house, too.

I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up, but hopefully it won't take me as long as this one did. Sorry again for the wait! I hope you all enjoyed it, until next time! :D


	12. Chapter 12

Ummmmm...not really sure what to put here this time...O.o

I'll just get on with it. Enjoy!

O_O_O_O_O

"What do you _mean_ you 'can't find him'? He was hit by a bloody _truck_! Are you trying to tell me he _got up and decided to go for a walk?"_

"_Uh oh!"_

"_Yelling, yelling..."_

"_Watch your blood pressure!"_

England was angry. No, angry was an understatement. He was _furious_. He hadn't felt this pissed off in a very long time. Maybe the last time he saw France. But that wasn't the point.

What England couldn't understand was how you could _lose_ a _person _who just been hit by a _truck_.

Then again, this _was_ America they were talking about...

"Excuse me?"

Arthur looked away from the intimidated nurse in front of him and straight into a face that sent shivers down his spine. Its not that this next nurse was ugly. Oh, no. She was very pretty, actually. Its just _who _it was that scared him. That, and the fact that the smile on her face looked _very_ fake. But that could have been from the company she'd brought with her.

England's eyes quickly dropped from the face of Ivan's sister to look at Peter. The boy had a frown on his face, and was wearing his favourite outfit along with a blue and white backpack. Arthur couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the boy before returning Natalia's fake smile with one of his own.

"Oh, thank you! He wasn't any trouble..._was he_?" he asked as sweetly as possible. He noticed the brat twitch in his peripheral vision. Good.

Natalia seemed to pick up on his hidden meaning, and her smile seemed to widen. In a very malicious way. "Oh, _not much_," she replied just as sweet. Sealand twitched again, but the Belorussian went on. "You're being discharged today, so he brought you a change of clothes," she informed him, then grabbed the other nurse by the wrist and swept out of the room with a huff.

Arthur's eyes went to Sealand who had set his backpack down and was pulling out a shirt and pants. The boy hadn't done too bad in that respect. He'd grabbed a white shirt and jeans. Arthur felt the corner of his mouth turn up when Peter also pulled out a brown argyle sweater-vest.

"So..." the UK began as he pulled on the jeans. "You threw away my pills?"

The boy froze. "Wh-what makes you think that?" he replied sounding defensive.

"_Uh oh!"_

"_Busted, busted!"_

"_Is he going to get in trouble?"_

"_Oh! Oh!"_

"_I hope so!"_

"_It would be so funny!"_

"_Funny! Funny!"_

England finished pulling on the sweater vest and glared up at the faeries swirling above him. "Could we have some silence from the peanut gallery?" he demanded. Peter's blue eyes widened in surprise.

"Wait, you-?"

"Well!" the United Kingdom interrupted loudly. "I suppose its about time we left, then!" He placed a hand on Sealand's head and smiled down at the blond boy, who twitched nervously at the smile on Arthur's face. "Don't worry! When we get home, I'm going to make all the scones you can eat! And you can tell me _everything_ I've missed!"

Sealand's eyes widened, then immediately narrowed. "You...you...JERK!"

O_O_O_O_O_O

"Su-san! Su-san! Where do these go?"

Berwald looked up from his book sorting to see Tino holding a book in each hand. Sighing, he looked them over, then pointed in the general direction of the history section. "Ov'r th're."

The Finnish boy smiled. "Thanks, Su-san!" he chirped, scooting off in the direction indicated.

The Swedish man sighed, pulling another book from the 'Return' box. He wasn't sure what it was, but he and the Finnish boy had just...connected. As soon as they'd seen each other. It was almost creepy. Especially in the way that it felt so _natural_ to have Tino around, and how he'd known Berwald, even if my a strange but familiar nickname.

That, and the dreams he'd been having lately. Last night, Berwald had dreamed that he was leaving someone, somewhere, and that Tino had followed him. For some reason Tino had looked very nervous in the dream, even though Berwald had been trying to help him keep warm...oh well. It was just a dream, after all. He probably shouldn't think about it too much...

The blond man jumped as a loud crash practically echoed through the large library. For a moment, he thought that Tino had accidentally knocked something over and quickly looked over to the history section. Tino was fine, he noted with relief. Berwald then followed the startled Fin's line of sight to the front doors.

Two figures rushed over. The first was a young man with platinum blond hair who seemed to be muttering darkly to himself as he dragged the other along. The second was Matthias. Berwald blinked in confusion.

"Wh't're y—" he began, but was quickly cut off by the shorter man.

"We need-!" he began, sounding out of breath, but he was also interrupted.

"Yo, Svede!" Matthias said with a grin, raising his hand in greeting. "There's an evil monster behind us, so we need to use the back room." Berwald blinked, then heard a jingling noise as the Dane held up a ring of keys. "Thanks for the keys!" Correction. _His_ ring of keys.

Before he could protest, Matthias had taken control of the situation and dragged his startled companion into the back room where they kept the books that needed to be repaired. The door closed with a soft _click_, and he heard the door being locked again. What the heck was going on...?

"Umm..."

Berwald turned around to see Tino looking just as confused as he felt. "What just...happened...?"

"Oh! Mister Oxenstierna!"

The Swedish man turned around, annoyed look on his face (though really he just looked scary in general).

"_N'w_ wh't?" he demanded. Amy twitched nervously, but something didn't seem right. Even though the girl _looked_ nervous, from the way she was stuttering right down to her posture and the way she wrung her hands, there was a strange look in her eye. Feral. Like a predator on the hunt.

Something was wrong.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

Norway felt his back hit a shelf full of damaged books, though not hard. Then the lights went out and he heard Matthias lock the door to the library's back room. Things were just happening way to fast for comfort. He felt...scared. As surprised as he was to admit it. It was the same way he had felt the day Denmark had—no. Don't think about that.

Unsure what to do in the dark, he tried to shift a bit, wincing when Matthais accidentally stepped on his foot in the dark..

"Hey—mmph!" a hand slapped over his mouth before he could continue, and the nation blinked.

"Shut up for a second, Norge," he heard the Dane hiss close to his ear. "We're trying to _hide_ from the big bad wolf. Not flag her down."

Norway froze, immediately going silent. Something was...different. It was something in Matthias voice. The way he called him 'Norge'...it was different. _Familiar_.

All thought cut of when he heard voices in the library just outside the door. It sounded like...Amy. A shiver went down his spine. The Perfect had followed them all the way to the library? Crap. Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he barely made out Matthias' hand pointing downwards. It took the Norwegian a moment to realize that he _could_ sort of see the Dane's hand.

A light in his pocket informed the platinum blond that he'd received a new text message. He'd put his cell phone on silent earlier that day since the ring tones had annoyed him, and he hated when the stupid device started buzzing in his pocket. Infinitely grateful for this logic, the Nordic nation carefully reached down and pulled the phone out.

He was just about to flip it open when he froze. Wait, no one sent him text messages. He'd told them all not to. The only person who'd ignored the threats on their life was...he flipped open the phone.

_Long time no see Norgie!_

O_O_O_O_O_O

"Would you like tea?"

Ozzy looked up from his thumb war with the Netherlands and blinked. Hong Kong stood over them, a tray with Chinese-style tea set on it in his hands. Unfortunately, his lack of attention cost him because the next thing he knew Holland had his thumb held down and had counted to five.

"Aw, shit!" the continent nation groaned, pulling his hand away. Holland just grinned. It was slightly lopsided due to the large bruise on his jaw. That sound Alfred had heard earlier that had reminded him of when he'd tripped over a coffee table with a sprained ankle? That was the N_etherlands_ tripping over a coffee table with a sprained ankle.

"Well?" Hong Kong pressed, raising a very English-looking eyebrow.

Australia rolled his eyes at his sort-of relative. "Sure,mate. Put 'er there," he said, gesturing vaguely at the table in between himself and the Dutch nation. Hong Kong did as he was told and took a seat in between the two. The Asian country blinked when he noticed that there was a third person at the table. The platinum blond hadn't been noticed only because he'd been so quiet. He'd actually been trying desperately to ignore the thumb-warring nations' antics by sticking his nose almost literally in his book.

"Hello, Iceland," Hong Kong greeted. The island nation blinked, looking up from his book.

"Oh. Hello, Hong Kong," he replied.

"Crikey!" Ozzy yelped, making Holland jump in his own chair. "I didn't even see you there! You haven't been hangin' out with Canada, have you?"

Iceland rolled his eyes and sighed. "No," he replied firmly.

Just then, Hong Kong blinked and pulled out his cell phone. The former British colony frowned, eyebrows knitting together as he read the text message, before finally replying and sliding the phone back into his pocket.

"What's up?" Australia asked, leaning forward a bit in interest.

"Did something happen?" Iceland added. The Netherlands was about to add a question of his own, but was cut off by Hong Kong finally deciding to speak.

"There was another attack on Taiwan. She just wanted to make sure we knew she was okay," he explained, taking a cup of tea.

Holland sighed, leaning back in his chair. "My sister called about an attack, too. It was just this morning," he said.

Australia winced sympathetically. "Aw, shit. She okay? You guys have only been attacked while you were together, before." This statement elicited another sigh from the Dutch man.

"Yeah, she's fine. She's pretty strong on her own. Its just hard to run from something when you're not even sure _what_ you're running from. I managed to talk her through it," he assured them.

Nearly all the nations at the table knew what the Netherlands was talking about. Australia himself had been through one of those attacks. It wasn't even a real..._attack_. But what else were they supposed to call them?

"_There ya're, Jezabell!" Ozzy chirped as he lifted the koala back into her tree. He felt his own koala climb onto his shoulder and chuckled at the glare it was giving the female._

"_Aw, c'mon, mate! Don't be like that, You know how the girls are," he teased his furry companion, then broke off a small branch from the tree and handed it to the koala. "There ya go..."_

_Something slithered by his foot, making the Australian jump and yelp in surprise. He quickly looked down, only to blink in confusion as he saw the flash of scales. The sight was gone in a split-second, disappearing behind the tree and not emerging. That was...odd. The snake he'd seen...it had disappeared too fast to be sure, but at the same time, it couldn't have been possible._

Wonambi_'s were extinct. He hadn't seen one since...this that Dream he'd had when he was just a kid. His mum even used to tell him about them. Now, the only _Wonambi_'s you'd ever see were fossils...that couldn't have been..._

_Thunder rumbled and Ozzy's head snapped up, only to find the sky clear. No...this was just too strange._

_The nation froze. Something...something was wrong. Even his koala seemed to feel the same way as it clung to his shirt tighter, the eucalyptus branch forgotten. Australia scanned his surroundings. What was going on? He couldn't _see_ anything..._

_So why the hell did he feel so..._terrified_?_

_He probably would have stood there until it caught him, if he hadn't felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. When he didn't immediately react, his koala bit him again. His heart in his throat the Australian began to run. No, no, no! Not that way. That way was bad. Why? He didn't know. He just shouldn't run that way. He needed to run away from it. Run, run, run. Like his life depended on it. Did it? He wasn't sure. No. _Yes_. It did. _RUN!

_What was he even running from?_

_His boots thudded on the dry ground, kicking up small puffs of dust. He was getting tunnel vision. Keep running. Keep running. _Keep running.

_And that's what he did. He kept running until his lungs burned, until he couldn't even feel his legs, didn't even know that he was still running. He just knew that he needed to _get out_ Get away._

_Just when he felt he could run no further, he slipped behind a rather large eucalyptus tree, his back hitting the bark as he curled up, hugging his koala to his chest just like when he'd been a child running from his Dad after causing mischief._

_He felt whatever it was catch up and he held his breath, not wanting to give away his feeble hiding spot. His eyes snapped open wide in shock as he felt it pass by him, the terror it had brought with it receding. As soon as he felt that it was _gone_ he let out the breath he'd been holding, gasping for air like the goldfish Mattie used to have. Before Australia had knocked over the bowl, of course._

_Still gasping for air, he felt the long over-due panic-attack bubble within him, and choked out a short bark that sounded vaguely like a laugh. His throat burned too much for a real one. Then, the relief hit him like a tidal wave. Australia hugged his koala close and curled up into a ball, nearly choking on every breath he took._

_The very next day, he found out from Canada that his dad was gone._

Australia shuddered at the memory. Definitely not one of his finer moments. Especially the near-panic-attack he'd had that very next day when Canada had told him about his dad. Not that he had the best relationship with his dad. Still, going through something like that only to find that his only locatable parent was missing? Kinda stressful, to say the least.

He was actually pretty thankful that he'd been alone that day. With what he'd felt that day, he didn't think he would have been able to drag another person to safety with him. He even envied how the Netherlands had been able to get himself _and_ his sister through an even like that. Only a little, though.

Still, now that he thought about it...the experience _had_ been strange. Especially when he'd thought he'd seen that _Wonambi_...but he couldn't have. They'd been extinct for _years._ Eyes going to the window, Australia couldn't help but think about his mum. She used to tell him stories. They'd vary slightly, since there were so many aboriginal tribes running around, but the "Rainbow Serpent' always seemed to be present somewhere. He'd been a huge snake...she'd always described the _Wonambi_ as being the Rainbow Serpent...

Australia frowned. She'd also told him that thunder was the Rainbow Serpent expressing his anger...or something along those lines. Now he felt like he was going out on a limb, but...whatever it was that had attacked him...had it angered the Rainbow Serpent with its presence...?Nah. Couldn't have been. After all, it was just part of the many stories his mum had told him when he was little. Just aboriginal mythology. It didn't really _mean_ anything...

Right?

Australia flashed back to what he'd experienced that day again, and felt a flicker of doubt.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, you fucking _hoser?_"

The scream that came from the other room ripped Ozzy from his thoughts, and made every nation at the table jump. There was a small yelp from Hong Kong, who had accidentally spilled his very hot tea all over his lap in his surprise. As Holland grabbed Hong Kong some paper towel, Iceland and Australia dashed out of the kitchen to the living room where they had left Canada and Alfred.

The two blonds in question had very interesting looks on their faces. Alfred looked as though someone had kicked his puppy, and had then tried to explain why in another language. Matthew looked like and American team had one the Stanley cup. _Again_.

"You believe in _aliens_ and fucking _alternate dimensions, _but you can't wrap your _thick head_ around the idea of being a _country?" _Canada was practically shrieking at his brother, his hands in a very strange position in front of him. It looked as if he was trying to strangle the air in front of Alfred's neck.

"Woah..." Ozzy said carefully in a voice he usually used to sooth animals back home. "Now, Mattie. Let's try to take some deep breaths. I'll count to eight while you're doin' it. Why don't you count with me? Here we go...One...Two..."

Matthew took deep breaths just as he'd been told, counting all the way to eight with Ozzy. When they finally got there, the Canadian seemed to have calmed down quite a bit. Australia was pretty proud of himself. Even Iceland looked a little impressed.

"We can go to ten if ya need to," the nation-continent teased. Matthew just rolled his eyes and turned back to Alfred.

"Why don't you...just go upstairs and get some rest, for now. You must be tired, eh?" he said, running a hand through his wavy blond hair.

Alfred blinked, still looking rather overwhelmed. "Er...yeah. Sure..." he said, getting up and quickly making his way towards the stairs.

"Use the room with the white door that has the US flag drawn on it in crayon," Canada advised his clueless brother who merely nodded and trotted upstairs.

Australia snickered. "I remember that. You were so red..." he shut up when Matthew glared at him, but snickered softly when the Canadian turned away and started to walk.

"Is everyone in the kitchen?"

The Aussie shoved his hands into his pockets, nodding to Iceland who slipped back into the kitchen, before following Canada to the back yard. "Yeah. Well, most of 'em. Prussia's gone back to see if he can make more progress. Greece is still actin' as our 'Gatekeeper'. Norway went back 'cuz Iceland was starting to nag...er...I think that's about it," he explained.

Matthew smiled at him. "Thanks. You didn't have to make it sound like you were giving some sort of report, though..." he said, laughing softly.

Australia sighed, trotting dutifully after him. For some reason, Canada seemed oblivious to the fact that everyone deferred to him as the unofficial leader of their little 'rescue' operation. He _was _the one who'd gathered them all together and given them safe refuge. A strange thought popped into Ozzy's head and he snorted, mouth curving into a small grin. This time, America wasn't the 'Hero'.

O_O_O_O_O

Greece covered his yawn with one hand as he continued to feed the fish with the other. He kept having to bat Corporal Cat away from the tank. It would be back if the cat ate the fish. He might get fired. Then he'd loose access to the Rip. If it weren't for those little things...he'd gladly let the cat eat the fish.

But, those reasons were still there. So fish-eating was a 'no'. Plus, he kinda liked to watch them swim back...and forth...and back...and for-

The sound of the shop's door chime broke the Balkan country from his thoughts. Putting the lid back on the fish food (the cats seemed to love that just as much as the fish, for some reason) and setting it next to the tank, he picked up Corporal Cat and made his way back to the front of the shop.

There was no one there. Greece frowned, the hairs on the back of his neck starting to stand on end. He felt uneasy. Something wasn't right. Corporal Cat started to struggled in his arms, making him blink down at the cat. He quickly dropped it when it bit him, more out of shock than pain.

His uneasy feeling growing, Greece followed that cat through the shop...all the way to the storage room. He specifically remembered locking the door that morning. The door was half-open. Hand a little unsteady, the nation reached out and pushed the door open the rest of the way before stepping inside. Eyes wandering he eventually found what he was looking for.

There, right in front of the Rip, was a Perfect. She looked like most of the others. Chocolate brown hair, flawless skin and heart-shaped face. But her eyes were...wrong. Raw. Feral. The girl glared at Greece, letting out a hiss that rivaled the one Corporal cat was giving her. The nation took a step back in surprise, his eyes darting from her to the Rip. His gaze then traveled to her hands, where she held a needle and some gray colored thread that had been wrapped around her thumb like a spindle.

Realization dawned on Greece and seemed to show in his face,since she took a step backwards, bringing herself closer to the rip. She was there to _repair it_.

That wasn't good. Greece kept his face neutral, his eyes darting around the room, though never leaving the Perfect for long. He had to do something. Had to stop her. But what...?

He'd taken his attention away from her for too long, he realized with a jolt. The nation looked back just in time to see the Perfect's muscles tense. Corporal Cat saw this as well...and _pounced_. The cat landed on the girl—_thing_'s—face, its claws digging into her once-perfect flesh. Greece took his chance.

The Mediterranean country ran at the Perfect, grabbing her spindle-hand and her normal one by the wrists just as it came up to attack Corporal Cat, his momentum carrying them through the rip. Greece's grip on her tightened as the usual violent flash of colour and sound hit him, squeezing his eyes shut until he felt them hit the driveway on the other side. The country opened his eyes.

He saw the Devil.

Oooooooo

Wooooo! Done! :3 And in less time than the last, just like I promised!

As usual, I apologize for any mistakes I missed in my correction twice-over. :\ I always look back at the chapters after I've posted them to see that there's a bunch of mistakes I've missed...Sorry!

Let's see...things to explain...I've been putting more detail into the Perfects, in case any cared to notice. They're actually pretty important. You'll see soon enough.

For all you lucky people who guessed Iceland...obviously, you were right! -gives cookies- Good job, guys! :3 I also tried to mention a few other nations who haven't been captured, yet. The one's who are still dodging attacks. Well...I only mentioned two, but hey. It works. XD

A little look into the first attack on Australia, and what exactly happens during an attack. More will still be explained about what goes on, but that's for later chapters.

Yeah, I put in a bit of Australian Aboriginal mythology...I tried to keep it kind of vague. One; because despite the research I did, I still don't know too much about it. Two; because Australia, in my head, is the son of Aboriginal Australia and England. Being such, the only experience he'd have of that mythology would be kind of second hand. Just stories his mother told him as a child. Since he was raised mostly as an English colony, those stories didn't have _as much_ meaning for him as they did his mother.

The Rainbow Serpent is a common figure in that mythology, though it goes by many names since there were so many aboriginal tribes. It is believed to have been one of the creators of Australia. Scientists think that it had a connection with a _very_ large and very extinct snake that was once native to Australia, the _Wonambi_. If you want more info, please try looking it up. I'm kinda bad at explaining...

But, um...yeah. That reference to the Stanley Cup? That's me still being kinda ticked off about the Black Hawks winning...I was _really_ hoping a Canadian team could have won, this time. D: But, yeah. You guys probably don't care about that. Sorry. :\

Alfred drew an American flag in crayon on the door to the guest room that he always used. XD End of story, lol

Let's see...what else...oh, yeah. That part where Australia realizes that America isn't the hero? That was me realizing the same thing...so I put it in. XD The thing about Matthew being the Rescue Team's unofficial leader was kinda the same thing. I realized it halfway through the chapter, then decided to pint it out. :3

Last part is a cliffy and hard to comment on...but my sister helped me come up with it. We've really been working on the Perfects irl, since they've been so under-developed as characters. :\ Oops...I think I already mentioned that. Oh well, sorry. XP

That's about as much as I can explain or comment on...if you have a specific question, put it in a review, or something. :p

I hope you all enjoyed it. Thanks for reading! :3


	13. Chapter 13

So...yeah. Chapter 12 was updated pretty quick. This one wasn't updated _as_ quick, but I'm trying to keep my updates to well under a month for the readers' benefit, this time. XD Plus, I'm not having trouble with writer's block right now, so I might as well write as much as I can, right?

ALERT! Ookami of Mystery pointed out to me that I made a bit of a boo-boo in the last two chapters. :\ If you were confused my Denmark's name going from Soren to Matthias...I'm REALLY sorry about that. Like I said in an early chapter, Soren and Matthias are two of the most common names I've seen used for him, since I haven't seen an official name yet. (Just realized I haven't checked, recently. O.o) Anyways, that's where the confusion must have happened, just as I got back from my writer's block. :\ Sorry! If you guys notice anything else, please let me know!

Well, enjoy! :3

_O_O_O_O_O_O_

**One Year Ago...**

The air had a crisp, clean scent to it. Almost like autumn, Matthew mused. Though it wasn't quite that time of year, yet. It was near the end of January, patches of snow still covered the ground and the skeletal forms of trees still reached towards the sun for a bit of warmth. It wasn't really all _that_ cold out. People always seemed to get this idea that Canada was a frozen wonderland...

He wasn't really like that. Absently, Matthew wondered where that idea came from as he made his way through the forest, glancing back every so often to make sure Kuma...something was still following.

He usually went for walks like this when he was a bit stressed, and right now he was. Very much so. England was coming to visit him. It wasn't even for political reasons this time. No, this was a social visit. A _social visit_. England had actually remembered him, and had decided to visit him. As happy as he was...he was pretty nervous.

Judging by the annoyed tone of Arthur's voice when he'd called earlier, France had decided to tag a long.

Matthew sighed, kicking at a pinecone. He was happy, he really was. It was just..._sad_. Now that Alfred was missing, no longer there to overshadow Matthew, England and Fran—_Papa_-finally noticed him. It kind of made him...angry. Though it was hard to be angry with the two countries...at least, with Matthew's personality it was.

France may have been his Papa, and he may have abandoned him...he even called him bland...but that was because-!

Okay, so there was no good reason for that.

England had taken him in though. Taught him his language...forcefully. Taken care of him...then ignored him for the most part. But he'd given him his independence when he'd asked for it! Yes, that was something. Yes. Think about that. Try not to think about the bad stuff...

Canada sighed. He tried so hard to see the good in those two...but he always had to try _really_ hard. And now they were _both_ coming over his house. That wasn't good. As much as Canada had succeeded in having the English and the French live together peacefully (for the most part) in his country, he didn't think his methods would be quite as effective when it came to France and England _themselves_. Oh, well...he just had to survive, right?

Oh, dear. Now even his thoughts were starting to ramble. Thinking back on what he'd just thought...Canada began to thoroughly confuse himself from over-thinking everything. It was just the nerves, though.

With another sigh, the nervous nation pulled out his cell phone. He stopped in his tracks, his bear bumping into the back of his legs with a confused, "Who?"

"Canada," the nation mumbled absently before taking a deep breath and hitting the button. He had to hear the message again. His only clue. The last bit of his brother that could be found since his disappearance. Bringing the phone to his ear, Canada braced himself for the voice message.

"_Mattie! There...there isn't much time...! You've gotta run. Hide! They're coming for us. Remember when we were kids? You always used to be the best at hiding, because you'd just climb a tree, like a black bear. Remember that bear? We used to play with them when we were kids. Nanook, Nanook...it was all so long ago...God, Mattie...I'm scared...why am I scared? Hero's aren't scared...when it comes, don't be scared. Just hide. Oh, God...its coming...! Hide, Mattie! Run away and HI-!"_

The long, confusing message cut off there, and Matthew felt his grip on his phone tighten. Snapping it shut, he stared at the ground. His brother...really _had_ sounded scared. Alfred was never scared. At least, not enough for you to _hear_ the fear in his voice as he rambled on and on...that was another thing right there. As much as Alfred loved to talk, he'd never talked like he did in that message.

He was rambling, trying to stave off the fear audible in his voice, whispering like he was afraid someone would hear. They? It? After 'us'? It was more than Alfred's usual paranoia. Usually, America could pin a face or name to whoever he _thought_ was after him, or some such nonsense. This time? Nothing. He was being as vague as possible, as if he didn't know himself.

Matthew had tried to mention it to the other nations when the search for America had first begun, but no one had listened to him. Even the ones who _had_ couldn't make any sense of the strange message. So, Matthew had been left to wait. Lonely and unsure.

His cell phone buzzing dragged Canada from his overly-depressing thoughts, and he quickly flipped it open again to view the text message.

_We r here Mattieu!_

The North American nation sweatdropped. Oh, dear...France had stolen England's phone. That wasn't going to end well. Well, he might as well head ba-

The wind suddenly shifted and he froze. The whole forest was silent. That was part of what made him stop. There were no birds...he couldn't even hear any small mammals digging around in the frozen earth for food they may have buried in autumn. The entire forest was still.

Matthew's instincts went on high-alert, his eyes darting all over, his ears straining to catch any sound. These were hunting instincts that he hadn't had to use since France first took him in. Nothing. But he could still tell.

Something was coming.

He had just scooped up his bear as silently as possible and was about to go home, when it hit him. A wave of fear that crashed over him all at once, wiping out all of his instincts and paralyzing him completely.

"_When it comes, don't be scared..."_ Alfred's voice echoed in his head. _"Just hide."_

Hide...hide? But where? Whatever was coming was...was...he didn't know what it was. This thought only added to the completely irrational fear he was feeling, and Matthew quickly tried to get a hold of himself.

He could _feel_ it coming, moving through the forest. He had to run, had to...to...

"_Hide, Mattie..."_

Hide. He had to hide. Not knowing what else to do, Matthew did what he once did as a child when he had to hide from a drunken England. He zipped his bear into the front of his coat to make sure he didn't drop him, then climbed the nearest tree. Luckily, it was an evergreen, and its needles helped him feel more hidden than the skeletal branches of the other trees.

Trying to even out his breath, Matthew climbed as high as he could without fear of breaking his branch before looking down. He was just in time to see it pass.

What 'I't was...he wasn't quite sure. It moved too fast. Just a dark blur in the snow. Just as it passed under his tree the fear he felt spiked to such a proportion, Matthew thought he'd faint. But just as soon as the spike came, it was gone. Just like the thing that brought it, the irrational fear he felt seemed to flow away the farther the thing got from him.

With a sigh of relief Canada began to relax, though he tightened his grip on his branch and did not leave his perch. The thing could come back after all. Peering through the branches to see which direction it had gone in the blond nation froze, purple eyes widening.

He practically jumped out of the tree, only wincing slightly when the landing jarred his legs before he took off after the thing at a sprint. The direction it had gone...that was the way to Matthew's house. The place where France and England were waiting for him.

Boots pounding on the still-frozen ground, lungs burning from the chilly evening air, Canada ran. He didn't know what he was going to do when he got there...he just knew he had to get there. Had to stop it. Had to...

By the time he stumbled through the open door, both nations were gone.

**Present...**

Bare feet padded softly down the steps into the basement. He had first walked through the doorway with a smile. Promising that he'd be fine. Nothing would happen. Now, his face was carefully blank. He felt cold. After Greece had come through like that...

He knew They wouldn't leave it with the enemy. Something else would come through that Rip. Probably more of _them_. They'd have to try and figure out what to do when that time came. There were just...too many of _Them_. Not enough people in the house to put up a proper fight against Them.

He just wanted it to end.

Purple eyes cold, Matthew reached the bottom of the stairs. He never usually used his basement for much, except storing things he hadn't had the heart to throw away. Now, it was being used to store something else. Covered in chains, screaming in pain, its voice never stayed the same. _It_ never stayed the same.

Canada stared at the pathetic creature in disgust, then averted his eyes, unable to watch it anymore. Turning on his heel he headed back upstairs and put on a smile for the worried Australian waiting for him at the top.

O_O_O_O_O_O

Of all the places they could have hidden, Denmark _had_ to choose the closet. The stupid Dane would _never_ let Norway live this moment down...

Norway clenched his fist in the Denmark's red T-shirt in the darkness of the library's back room. The taller nation still had his arms around him, hand over his mouth. After Norway had gotten the text he'd let out a rather loud gasp, which had been quickly cut off by the hand now on his mouth. There were footsteps just outside the door, too. Light, dainty ones. Not Berwald.

Denmark was using his body to shield Norway from the door, just in case it opened. Soren was protecting him. _Again._ Stupid, stupid. Noway's eyes burned, and he tried to resist the urge to bite the hand keeping him silent. He could protect himself. He _knew_ he could. The idiot just seemed to be trying to do it for him.

What's worse was how _helpless_ he felt. Like he _needed_ Denmark there to protect him. It was unnatural. The same feeling he'd gotten during the...the attack. He'd also felt this overwhelming feeling of terror and helplessness during that time. It wasn't right. And Soren? Outwardly, he seemed oblivious to the feeling. However...Norway tightened his grip on the other Nordic nation's shirt. Just under his hand, he could feel the pounding of Soren's heart.

Denmark was just as scared as him.

O_O_O_O_O_O

"Y'sh'ld l've," Berwald repeated. He didn't know why. He really didn't. But the girl was _wrong, _somehow. Instinctively he positioned himself between her and Tino, the Finnish boy looking just as confused and apprehensive as he felt.

Amy looked rather startled. "Wh-what? But Mister Oxenstierna..." she began. There was something going wrong with her voice. Like when the batteries of a toy started to run out. It kept going in and out of tune, the barest hint of a whine detectable. The sound sent another shiver up his spine.

The sound of a girly ringtone cut through the tension like a knife. Amy jumped, then fumbled around in her school bag for a moment before pulling out her cell phone. Berwald watched cautiously as the girl glanced at the caller ID and flipped open the phone.

"H-hello?" she said, this time the nervousness in her voice genuine. Berwald backed up a bit until Tino was only a foot behind him. This made him feel a little better, though he still had no clue what was going on.

"What!" Amy squeaked into her phone, drawing the Swede's attention back to her. "B-but Big Brother! How could they have...? I-I see...alright, Brother. I'll come back..." The girl threw Berwald a rather nasty look before flouncing out of the library.

A stunned silence fell over the room. The blond man felt something gently grab his shirt sleeve, and looked back at Tino. "S-Su-san...what-?"

"Woah! That was, like, master cool!" a voice yelled from behind them, and the two startled blonds turned to see Soren and a the shorter blond from earlier tumble out of the back room. The shorter man looked rather flustered as he quickly got up and scooted away from the Dane, who merely started laughing. The taller man got up and dusted himself off before turning to Berwald.

"Like I said! Master cool, Sverige!" he repeated, throwing an arm around the Swedish man's shoulders. "You were so badass! I'll bet you looked like the Terminator! _You should leave_. So cool! Or at least...I think that's what you said..."

Berwald massaged his temples. "Y'd b'tt'r t'll m'wh't's g'ng'n," he growled. The Dane and his companion stared at him in confusion, and Berwald groaned. He could feel a rather large headache coming on...

_O_O_O_O_O_O_

Seychelles stared at the television screen. She'd been curious when she'd first turned it on and had hit the favourites button, wondering what channels Matthew liked to watch. No matter how many times she hit the button, only one channel ever came up. Was CBC the only channel the quiet nation ever watched.

The Netherlands, who had been lounging on the loveseat nearby with a book, looked up as one show in particular came on. "Great," he groaned, making Seychelles look over in surprise. Iceland, who'd been sitting in an armchair in the other corner looked up from his own book. "Its Coronation Street," the Dutch nation went on. "Just change it. I don't even know why Matthew likes that show."

Iceland raised an eyebrow and Seychelles blinked. "Um...okaaaay...what should I change it to?" she asked, confused.

"Animal Planet," a voice replied from the doorway, making the three nations look over to see Greece walking into the room, his left arm in a sling. Seychelles blinked again, and Holland looked a little too happy to find that he was no longer the injured party. He'd been given the OK on his ankle just before Greece had fallen through with..._That._

They still weren't sure what it was. The fact that it never stayed in one form for more than five seconds made it even harder. Greece had held it down long enough for it to bite him, snapping his arm like a twig in its giant grizzly jaws, then the others had finally recovered from their shock and had helped drag it into the basement and chain it down.

Hong Kong had been the first to voice the problem with that plan. What if it shifted into a smaller animal and escaped? The chains wouldn't do anything then. But that problem had soled itself. The creature was in too much agony from its constant shifting to even move, now.

Seychelles shuddered. She'd seen the thing as they were dragging it down. Greece had insisted it was a Perfect. It had looked like a girl just before he'd pushed it through the Rip. For some reason, there were no answers. Only more and more questions.

O_O_O_O_O_O

The explosion of colour and sound was nearly too much for Arthur, but his face hitting the gravel was probably the worst part. Growling slightly he spat grit from his mouth and pushed himself back up. He wobbled on his feet for a moment, the world spinning around him, but quickly righted himself.

He ate gravel again when Sealand came tumbling out of the Rip behind him right into his legs. "Of course," the former empire grumbled as he pushed himself back up, take two. The boy on the ground next to him seemed surprisingly quick to recover from his own ordeal. Then again this wasn't the first time he'd gone through that godforsaken Rip, was it?

"Where are we?" England asked with a frown. The boy hadn't exactly explained anything yet, and it was really starting to tick the blond man off. The house looked vaguely familiar. Had he been here, before?

Just then, a figure came walking out the door, freezing when it saw them. "Crikey..._Dad?_" Ozzy yelped, eyes wide.

"Fucking shyte..." England groaned at the sight of his wayward (in his opinion) son. Sealand jumped slightly before staring up at him.

"Was that _Yorkshire_?" Ozzy gaped. England just glared.

"Someone had _better_ explain!" he snapped.

Australia sighed and stepped away from the door, allowing them entrance. "You'd better come in."

_O_O_O_O_O_O_

"Here you are. Have a nice day!" Elizaveta called cheerfully as the woman dragged out her multiple large grocery bags. The Hungarian woman's smile faltered slightly as she turned to the next person in line and began scanning their items.

Of all the jobs, she had to have this one. She could have chosen something better. Maybe something that had to do with cooking. Yes, that sounded nice. Frying pans just felt so natural in her hand...but no. Here she was at the checkout station of a grocery store. Lovely.

"Have a nice day!" she called again, trying to put just as much cheer in as last time. It always got harder as the day went on.

"Hello, Miss Liza."

Elizaveta blinked in surprise, then smiled at the teen in front of her. He was cute in that way that his face still looked a little childish. Or maybe that was just the freckles? That and the big smile he always gave her. He must have stayed up late playing video games again, if his wavy brown bedhead was any indication. The Hungarian woman couldn't help but smile back at the boy.

"Hey, Leonas! How are you, today?" she asked as she began to scan his items. A six-pack of Mountain Dew? Yeah, he definitely had a new game to play.

The smile Leonas gave her seemed tired, though she just pushed it aside as a result of his new game. "I'm okay. Hey, doesn't Roderich have a new concert coming up? I'd love to come see," he said, brown eyes lighting up in anticipation.

Elizaveta beamed. "He does! I can get you the details, if you want," she said quickly, scanning his last item.

The teen laughed. "Sure! Could you write it down?" he asked. The woman nodded eagerly, quickly writing the information down on the back of his receipt.

"Here you go!" she chirped, handing it over. The boy smiled gratefully. He sure did seem to smile a lot.

"Thanks, Miss Liza!" he replied, then grabbed his bags and headed out, waving to her the whole way.

"Have a nice day!" Elizaveta called. This time, she meant it.

_O_O_O_O_O_O_

_Crunch, crunch, crunch._

The sound seemed so familiar...and after a moment, Ivan realized why. It was the sound of someone walking through the snow. Someone was here. Purple eyes fluttered open as the Russian tried desperately to stay conscious. He was still in the forest. Still in his prison. His cage.

But he was no longer alone.

Slowly, he tried to push himself into a sitting position, only to fall back down into the snow. Why was he so weak? He didn't know. The large man barely managed to prop himself up on one elbow.

_Crunch, crunch, crunch._

The footsteps came closer, stopping just in front of him. Ivan focused on the pink converse shoes in front of him before moving his gaze up into the face of a beautiful brown-haired girl. Wait. He knew her. Or at least he'd _seen_ her. She was a girl from one of his classes at the University. Stacy...or something.

Noticing the weak flicker of recognition in his purple eyes, the girl smiled, showing all of her sharp white teeth. She took a step towards him, reaching out a hand. Ivan tried to move away, but found that he was still too—**why?**-weak to do so. He flinched when she caressed his cheek with a cold hand and her smile widened, inducing in him a sudden terror he'd never felt before. It was unnatural.

"Wh-what...do you...w-want...from me...?" he barely managed to gasp.

A strange look flashed in the girl's eyes, her smile seeming to be frozen on her face. She cupped his cheek with her hand and bent closer, kissing him gently on the forehead before moving her lips just next to his ear.

"_I want you to make me **perfect**_."

oooooooo

Done! Who liked _that_ cliffy, hmmm?

Another thing my sister helped me come up with. :3 She reads so many short stories, its not even funny. She's been helping me with this story a lot, lately. She kinda took over the Perfects. XD Not that I mind. I wasn't really getting anywhere with them, myself.

Okay, some of Matthew's part was kinda rambly. Sorry. :\ It just came out like that.

Yeah...I don'treally know what to say for most of the chapter. O.o Sorry.

But I did put a slightly -cringe- better description of Leo for those who wanted it. Mostly for Ookami of Mystery who has been awesome enough to start drawing a doujinshi of this fic! :3

If you wanna check it out you can find it at:

ookamiofmystery . deviantart . com

Just, you know, take out the spaces...and maybe add a www...yeah...

One more apology for any spelling or grammar mistakes I might have missed. Again. I always apologize for this...

Anyways, thanks for reading this, everyone! It makes me so happy to know people actually like my stories. :3 Hope you enjoyed chapter 13!


	14. Chapter 14

Green eyes stared at the being in front of them, the man who owned them not quite sure if what he was seeing was actually real. He took a step closer, his footsteps going unheard under the inhuman screams that filled the basement. He nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, green eyes whipping around to meet purple.

"Well?" the blond who looked so much like America asked. Arthur closed his eyes.

"I know what it is."

_O_O_O_O_O_

"_You've gone too far this time"  
But I'm dancing on the valentine  
I tell you somebody's fooling around  
With my chances on the dangerline  
I'll cross that bridge when I find it..."_

_Click._

Alfred's head immediately shot up. "No! Mattie! The Reflex is a lonely child!" he whined, getting into a sitting position on the bed. Matthew stared at his brother before shaking his head.

"Putting the fact that you were listening to Duran Duran aside-"

"-They're not ba-"

"-I know. How are you holding up?" Matthew said, changing the subject. "Remembered anything?"

The American groaned, flopping back down onto the bed. "No..." he grumbled. He still didn't really believe all the crap about them being countries, but considering all of the crazy things that had been happening to him lately, the blond was willing to go along with it for now. There was a short pause before he perked up. "So...what was all that noise downstairs?"

Matthew blinked. "Oh, you heard that? Team Bigotry just left, so-"

"Team _what_?" Alfred interrupted, sitting up again.

His brother sighed. "Um...well, I guess the only real bigot in that group would be Arthur, since he's English...please don't tell him I said that," he added quickly. Of course, this _really_ got Alfred's attention.

"What? _Arthur_ was here?" he blurted, now standing. Why the heck would the _librarian_ of all people have been in this place? Hah...Team Bigotry. He'd have to remember that one the next time he saw—no! Focus!

"Er...Al?"

Alfred froze. "...Yeah?"

There was a pause. "Why are you hitting your head against the wall?"

Oops. Was he? He hadn't even noticed. Crap...now he was hungry. Alfred grabbed Matthew by the bicep, leading him out of the room. "Right, who else is in Team...uh...Big-Oh-try?"

The Canadian sighed, but allowed himself to be dragged along. "Its 'Bigotry', Al. And the other two are..."

O_O_O_O_O

"Ahhhhh-CHOO!"

"Blessyou," the two men behind him said simultaneously as Australia sniffled a bit.

The blond man grinned. "Thanks. Wow, Dad! I think I'm catching your cold. Couldn't ya pass it to someone else?" he complained, referring to just a few minutes prior, when England had sneezed just after going through the Rip.

"I'm not catching a cold, horrible child," Arthur protested mildly, holding the pet shop door open for his two companions. "And besides, who would I pass it _to_?"

The blond Australian's roving eyes rested on their dark-haired companion. His grin widened, but before he could say anything the previously silent nation spoke up.

"Nuh-uh," he said, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes at his neighbour. "Can't. I don't catch colds."

Australia blinked. "Huh?"

England looked equally perplexed (if you called one raised eyebrow and a frown a perplexed look). "I wonder why that is?" he mused as the three English-speaking nations continued down the street.

"Mmm..." the dark-haired Kiwi hummed softly.

"Ahhhhh-CHOO!"

"Hah! Take that, ya damn Kiwi!"

"...Shut up."

O_O_O_O_O

Elizaveta smiled warmly as Roderich's fingers came to a stop, clapping in appreciation.

"Oh, Roddy that was _wonderful_!" she chirped. The Austrian man smiled back at her.

From behind a book case, Prussian seethed. He was oh so carefully hidden, of course. A few skills he'd picked up from hanging out with Matthew. If one of the two looked over at his bookcase they wouldn't see a thing. If they _really _looked, they might see a single red eye glaring at them from the small space in between a biographies of two great composers (ironically, one was Chopin), but that was all. It was actually pretty easy, hiding. The only hard part was...

"Yes, that was very good," a deep voice agreed, and a large blond came into view. _WEST!_ Gilbert nearly yelled when he saw his brother, just barely managing to keep quiet. That was the one big problem with hiding. The real trick to it. Even if you had a _great_ hiding spot, you'd still be caught if you _didn't stay quiet_. That was a rule of hiding. Big rule number one, as Prussia had found out.

He hated that rule.

But he forced himself to abide by this rule as he watched his younger brother converse with the beautiful women and the prick at the piano.

After a few minutes, Gilbert was getting bored. The conversation he was eavesdropping on was getting nowhere, of course, since it didn't include the awesome him, and he was just about ready to leave. Then it happened.

_PEEP!_

In his hiding spot Prussia froze, red eyes widening in shock. Elizaveta and Roderich looked just as surprised as they stared at the small yellow chick perched atop Ludwig's head. A faint blush spread across Elizaveta's cheeks, one hand going up to cover her mouth.

"Oh...my...its so-!"

Roderich cut in. "Ludwig, I'm pretty sure pets are not allowed inside of the library. And since _when_ did you own a bird?" he demanded.

The German man rubbed his face with one hand looking exhausted. "The bird...its not mine. Feliciano and I found it injured in the park. I've just been taking care of the little monster..." he grumbled.

Elizaveta squealed, clapping her hands together."Oh! That is _so cute_! I didn't know you had a side like that, Ludwig!" she fangirled. "Have you named it? Are you going to keep it? Is it—ow!" The Hungarian woman quickly pulled her hand back and stuck her injured finger in her mouth. As she was talking she'd been reaching out to pet the little bird, only to have it peck her for her efforts.

"Gilbird!" Ludwig snapped automatically.

This was the last straw. No longer able to contain himself, Gilbert came running out from behind the book case, not noticing the shadow that watched them nearby, snatching the little bird from his brother's head and cuddling it almost lovingly. Gilbird seemed just as happy to see its owner as it began cheeping non-stop, nibbling at the albino's ear.

"Oh, Gilbird! I was looking _everywhere_ for you! Mein Bruder wasn't _mean_ to you, was he? Aw..."

There was a long silence before Roderich coughed, making Gilbert freeze. Slowly, the ex-nation turned around to face the other three people in the room. Red eyes locked with startled blue, and Gilbert knew he was in trouble.

O_O_O_O_O

Someone was there, again. He was too cold to move, too cold to acknowledge their presence, but he knew they were there. It wasn't like the last few times, either. The first time, he'd been strong enough to stand so the footsteps hadn't mattered. The second time, he was weaker. The footsteps had meant something, then, and a few of the times after that. They were always girls.

This time was different. There were no footsteps.

So how did he knew someone was there? He wasn't sure. He'd been getting to much weaker...every time those girls came it was harder for him to stay awake, the cold biting just a little harder...

There was someone there. He could feel it. The presence was so familiar...if he could just...open...

Purple eyes fluttered open, roving upwards to stop on an old blue-tinged face. General Winter knelt in the snow, a blue-tinged hand reaching out to caress Ivan's cheek.

Purple eyes closed, and Russia fell asleep in the General's cold embrace.

O_O_O_O_O

_Alfred was dreaming again...he was pretty sure. He knew he was going to have to tell Matthew about it when he woke up, but so far the dream was pretty boring. Nothing to report. Just him, sitting in that house the alien had claimed was his, doing paperwork in an office. Yup. That's how his dream had started._

_He'd woken up, realized he wasn't _actually_ awake, and had gotten ready for the day, his body moving in its own into the office inside the house. Somehow, he instinctively knew not to call it a 'Study'. Why was that? **Maybe because only England used a st-**_

_The scene had changed. Now the room _was_ a study, and he wasn't the one sitting behind the desk. He was confused, though. The Arthur he saw this time wasn't the same as in his last dream. There was no fondness in his gaze, emerald orbs hard and cold._

_Within the confusion he felt, there was anger. Why was he so angry? Why was Arthur looking at him like that?_

_**Why couldn't England understand?**_

"_The answer is still NO!" the older man snapped._

_Even though he hadn't heard **didn't remember**__the first part of the conversation, he still felt himself tense, the angry words flowing out of their own accord._

"_Why _not_?" he practically screamed. "Why can't I be _free?_"_

_**Give me liberty...**_

_With a jolt, his eyes opened...only to note with much disappointment that he was back in the office. Still in the dream. With a sigh, Alfred set down the pen he'd been using, resting his head in his hands, his elbows on the table. He kind of remembered something, now. Why he was sitting at this desk when he _knew_ he was supposed to be somewhere else._

_One word: _grounded_._

_At least, that's how you could probably classify it. The blond also remembered that his punishment had something to do with the President...and a rubber duck. Alfred couldn't help but snicker softly. Oh that had been _so_ worth it-_

_He froze, then let his head slip from his hands and land on the desk with a _thump. _Why was he thinking like this? Was he really starting to believe Matthew's **Canada's **_his brother's_ crazy story about him being the personification of the U.S.? No way. It was just too crazy. Why the heck was he thinking about all of this is a dream, anywa-_

_The harsh sound of footsteps and the crash of his office door slamming caused him to look up, blue eyes locking with green. Ah. That's where he was supposed to have been. England, visiting. He blinked. Wait, why was Arthur _here_, then?_

"_Iggy?" his mouth said automatically. It was that nickname, the one he'd called Arthur a few days ago, though he hadn't known why. "What's up?"_

"_What's up? _What's up?"_ the man hissed. Alfred couldn't help but blink again. Arthur was angry, of course...but not as angry as he'd been in that last bit. That had been a sort of _cold_ anger. This was more...indignant rage. "You're bloody _President_! That's what's up!"_

_Wow...he was so angry his words were starting to jumble...not that Alfred was all that big on grammar. "Jimmy?" he asked, echoing the name inside his head as he wondered who his mouth was talking about. Wait...maybe it was... "What did he do?"_

"I'll_ tell you what he did!" the Brit roared, throwing his hands up into the air. "He _kissed my Queen!"

The dream ended with a loud crash, and much swearing on Alfred's part. Groaning a bit, the blond sat up, rubbing the bump on the back of his head. Falling out of bed and hitting your head on the nightstand before you hit it on the floor? Not fun. Definitely not recommended for those who were in college and still needed to use their brains. Although...according to Mattie, he wasn't really in colle—Alfred quickly shook his head, wincing when that made it feel worse. That really was the strangest dream...or was it a memory...?

The American was pulled from his thoughts when the door opened and a worried face peered in at him. "Are you alright? I heard the noise and thought I'd come check on you, eh?" he said, inching his way inside.

Alfred stared at his twin for a long moment, trying to decide whether or not to tell him about it. He really knew he should, it would make the Canadian happy...but at the same time, he...

In the end, his curiosity got the better of him.

"Jimmy Carter kissed the Queen on the _lips_?"

O_O_OOO_O

"Bastard..."

Antonio blinked and finished sliding the book back onto the shelf before turning to look at a very angry Lovino.

"Lovi...what did I do?" he asked, green eyes wide. He was pretty sure he hadn't done anything to anger the Italian, yet. They'd only just gotten to the library, for heaven's sake!

"Why did you even drag me along to the library, anyway?" the Italian growled, glancing at the staircase his brother had disappeared up. Ah. So that was it. Poor little Lovi was jealous because his brother had ditched him to find Ludwig upstairs. Antonio sighed, but didn't mention it knowing what would happen if he did. He didn't really feel like having a headache right now. Maybe later.

"Why don't you go look at some books, Lovi~?" he suggested lightly. The Spaniard's eyes lit up as an idea popped into his head. "What about those cookbooks you were looking at the other day? You can put them on my card, and I'll get them back before they're due. Promise~!"

The Italian's eyes widened, then narrowed. He opened his mouth, thought about it, then closed it. That was good. As much as he loved to make Lovino's face that nice tomato-red, Antonio _did_ know how to step around the auburn-haired Italian's explosive temper. Plus, it was kind of necessary in the library. The last time he'd gotten Lovino to yell, Arthur had literally kicked him out of the building.

Antonio had to hold back a shudder at the thought of Arthur. After that strange vision he'd had before...he'd been having dreams. Horrible, realistic, bloody dreams a lot of the time. Not all of them included the Brit, and not all of them were clear, but he felt like he was literally _in_ the dreams. He was losing sleep. Some of the worst dreams were like that first vision he'd had. The one where the usually mild-mannered British librarian was a violent pirate captain with sadistic tendencies. It was horrible to say, but the only reason he'd been able to go to the library today, was because he'd heard that the man was in the hospital.

"Oi! Bastard! I'm talking to you!"

The Spaniard quickly snapped bad to the present, blinking at the irate Italian before him. "What was that, Lovi?"

Lovino just glared at him, before finally deciding to repeat himself. "I said fine. Don't you _dare_ leave before I'm ready!" he snapped, storming over to a section. Antonio smiled a little to himself, shaking his head as he took the book he'd chosen over to the checkout. He'd wait for Lovino there.

Berwald looked up from sorting some newly returned books as the Spaniard set his book on the counter. "Where's Soren?" the green-eyed man asked, seeing that the Swede was alone.

The blond's expression immediately darkened as he stood up, causing Antonio to pale as he took a step back. "D'n't t'lk t'me ab't h'm," he growled, taking the frightened man's book of choice.

Swallowing nervously Antonio nodded, wondering what had happened between the two Scandinavian men. Unfortunately for him, things didn't stop there.

"Apparently," a familiar voice behind him began, making the Spaniard freeze, eyes wide. "A bunch of shit happened yesterday, and the wanker ran off before he could tell Berwald anything. I don't really blame you for being mad, Berwald. If Alfred did something like that I'd...oh, never mind."

_I'd lock him in a room with France._

_I'd feed him my scones._

_I'd send him to Russia tied up with a ribbon._

_I'd tell...that one guy that he'd insulted his 'Great One'._

Why was it so easy for Antonio to finish that sentence, and why did nothing his mind came up with make sense? He wasn't sure, but he somehow managed to keep calm as he turned around to face the very person he had been trying to avoid.

"Oh...Ho—Hello, um, Arthur."

The Englishman gave him an odd look, but nodded in polite acknowledgment, walking behind the counter to take Antonio's book from a very scary looking Swede. "Here, Berwald. Why don't you put away all those books you sorted through? I'm sure I can handle this," he said. The taller blond looked at him for a few moments before nodding, his knuckles white as he pushed the book cart away. Antonio couldn't help but sigh in relief as Berwald left. Hopefully he'd be in a better mood the next time he saw the man...

"Wait," Antonio said suddenly, turning back to Arthur. "I though you were in the hospital!" _That's why I came!_ Was left unsaid, not that anyone would guess that part, anyway.

"And I thought you had better taste in books," was the dry reply as Arthur flipped through the book he'd taken from Berwald. "1588? Only one _good_ thing happened that year, and we both know what it was. Why bother _reading_ about it?" Noticing the look on Antonio's face Arthur smirked and added. "Well, good for me, anyway."

Antonio was saved from fainting when a single scream ripped through the building.

OOOOOO

I'm baaaa~aaaack! :3

Once again, sorry for the delay (and any spelling mistakes I may have made...again...T.T) I've just been moving from one side of the river to the other...things have been pretty hectic with that...then I've started at a new school...yeah. There's a _little_ more about it in my profile if you _really_ wanna see, but I won't go into it for the sake of those who could care less...-.-;;

Yes! So...my notes...Jimmy Carter, President number 39 of the U.S. _Did_ in fact kiss the Queen on the lips. I just thought I'd put it in there as a memory for everyone's enjoyment. I kind figured Iggy would have a fit...and come all the way to America even though the visit was probably on the same exact day he showed up...yeah. The reason why I was writing about that first is because I just got done writing that part. :p

Anyways, is everyone excited to find out more about the enemy? England knows what they are. :3

The scene with Duran Duran...yeah, that actually happened in my car the other day. My sister was Matthew, I was Alfred. I still can't believe I said that...-headwall-

I hope everyone knows who the third member of Team Bigotry is. My sister has been wanting me to put him in for some time now. She'll be helping me out with some of the dialogue since she loves the interactions between Kiwis and Aussies. I tried to mention that Australia had blonde hair while New Zealand's hair was darker in colour. I honestly believe that whoever decided that Australia's official hair colour was brown, while New Zealand's is blond, is horribly mistaken. I've even gotten the vote from actual Australians and Kiwis that Australia should be blond and New Zealand should have darker hair, so I put that in for you guys!...If you're reading this...! :\

Anyways, Al's still having a hard time believing that he's a country...hmmm...but you all will probably be happy that I put a new memory in. And I wanted to bring Russia back in. There's going to be more of him, soon...as for the cliffy...

You guys will just have to find out what happened in the library next time! :3


	15. Chapter 15

_He was in another one of his hallucinations._

_One minute, he'd been standing in front of Kirkland, the librarian. The next minute, Antonio was sitting in a room wearing strange clothes, tending to the blade of a halberd—**his?**-with an oiled rag. It would end, eventually. His last one had, and the few he'd been having here and there had done the same. Then again,he'd always had Lovi to hit him on the head to bring him out of those others._

Okay_, he thought to himself. _Just stay calm. Figure out what period this one is taking place in.

_Well...he had a halberd. So he was back sometime when they...still used those. Not helpful. His clothes...there, those would help. Brown trousers, black boots, a white shirt under a red coat, rounded armour shoulder plates..._

_Before he could make any connections, the door to the room slammed open, and the Spaniard looked up to see a very frustrated Frenchman storm into the room. A very _familiar_ Frenchman. Why the heck were all the people he knew in his hallucinations._

"_Antonio..." the blond man growled as he reached him, brushing back a lock of blond hair that had freed itself from its loose ponytail._

"_You shouldn't be here, amigo," Antonio heard himself point out. He inwardly shuddered at the tone of his own voice. It was cheerful as always, but there was an underlying danger to it. He could actually feel himself tense in anticipation of...something. What was he waiting for? Green eyes went to the sword at Francis' side, and back to meet the man's blue eyes before he smiled._

"_What in the world were you _doing_?" his friend yelled. "I had already sent one of my men in there, he'd already explored it! You had no right to go in and-"_

_His movement was so fluid, he barely even felt himself move. Antonio blinked when Francis cut off abruptly, only to find that the blade of the halberd he'd been oiling before...was now at his friend's throat. The blond made no move for his own weapon-__**why even try?**__-simply staring back at the Spaniard, blue eyes blazing._

"_On the contrary," Antonio purred. "Your maps were never officially recognized. That entire area was fair game."_

_Sapphire orbs narrowed. "Only because you kidnapped my king before Verrazano could get back," France—_Francis_**why did he want to call him that?**__hissed back, hand twitching for his sword. It fell still when Antonio moved his halberd's blade just a bit closer...nicking the skin of the Frenchman's neck and drawing blood._

"_It was fair game," he repeated, smiled gone from his face. "You shouldn't be here. Go."_

_There was a tense moment where Antonio was _so sure_ it would turn into a fight. Oh, God...he _wanted_ it to turn into a fight. Was that what he'd been waiting for so eagerly? A fight? With _Francis_? Why would he want to fight his own friend? Wh-_

_Before his mind could finish spewing out questions, the blond man turned and left without a word._

_Antonio felt a little sick when he realized how satisfied...and _disappointed _he felt. Then he didn't feel anything._

_O_O_O_O_O_

Someone was coming.

Purple eyes snapped open, and the Russian managed to push himself into a sitting position. This was urgent. Someone was coming, knocking on the door of his prison, trying to get in. He could _feel_ it. It was a drumming in his head. A throbbing. A pounding. _In, in, in!_

He urged them on silently, willed them to get inside. This was different, he just _knew_ it. It wasn't the Hooded One. It wasn't the ones who were too Perfect. This was someone else. They were going to be his ally.

His lips curled into a strange smile. No...not his _ally_.

Suddenly, the throbbing, pounding, knocking stopped. Purple eyes scanned the white landscape, probing the shadow of every white-washed tree. The crunch of someone walking in the snow drew his attention,his eyes first drawn to the Rip. A Rip in the air. A Rip in reality itself. It let in the scorching heat and sand from one prison, melting the snow and cold of his own.

His eyes then landed on the former prisoner, his strange smile widening.

"Hello, Comrade Egypt."

O_O_O_O_O

It had come out of nowhere. One minute, he'd been staring at his brother, trying to figure out what to say. After all, what are you supposed to say to someone who thinks you've been dead for years? Then, a shadow had moved in his peripheral vision and before he could react his brother's startled blue eyes had closed, his large body slumping to the floor.

After that everything went red.

A scream pierced through the red haze, and Gilbert's red eyes blinked, refocusing on the world around him. At first, none of it registered. Movement made him look to his side where Elizaveta had fallen to her knees, hands trying to cover the horrified look on her face, eyes wide and staring. Roderich was immediately at her side, kneeling and pulling her close. Gilbert was confused, not even registering when Gilbird gave a soft peep atop his head.

He looked down at his hands. They were covered in blood.

O_O_O_O_O

Belarus was just about to unlock the door to her house when she felt the presence behind her. Shoulders stiffening, she slowly turned around, and glared at her enemy. She felt a pang of disappointment when, as usual, only the lower half of his face was visible. If only he'd stop wearing that hood...but then, America would probably lecture her about the point of being a super-villain with a secret identity...or something.

"What do you want?" she hissed, clenching one fist in preparation. Unfortunately he didn't move closer, staying just out of her reach.

Her enemy smiled. "Oh, just came to check up on you," he said, sticking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "And I thought I'd be nice and tell you that you're brother is still alive. Who knew Russia could hate the cold so much?"

Anger flashed in the female nation's face, a dangerous look in her eye. "You...you..." she began, not quite able to find the words to describe what she was feeling towards this..._thing_ in front of her.

He held a hand up as a catchy ringtone broke through the tension. "Hold that thought," he said, flipping out his cell phone. "Hello?"

Belarus felt her anger melt into confusion as a lone tear trailed down her enemy's cheek.

"_No._"

O_O_O_O_O

Outside the 'Home Base', everything was quiet. No one was outside, today. Not even Seychelles, tending to the many tulips she'd planted around Matthew's BC house, at the Netherlands' request. The only movement outside the house came from the wind rustling the tulips and trees...and a certain Dutch rabbit nibbling on a bit of clover in the front lawn.

Of course, this silence was soon shattered as the Rip in the driveway gave a ripple, and a figure fell out...flat on his face, as seemed to be the norm. Norway grumbled. Usually, his trips through that rip weren't so bad. He definitely didn't face-plant, like he just had. It was just hard _not_ to have a bumpy ride when when you pushed through by a-

Norway's face hit the dirt, again, and he managed to turn it to the side and spit out a pebble.

"We made it, Norge!" the lump on top of him cheered.

The pinned nation grit his teeth. "_Danmark_..." he growled. "_Get off of me._" There was slight pause before the blond jumped off Norway with a sheepish grin.

"Whoops, sorry, Norge!"

The pale blond ignored him, finally getting to his feet and dusting himself off. Of all the things...well, at least Denmark remembered him, now. Maybe he could go home? No...something told him he'd be attacked by a puffin in he left it at that. The Scandinavian nation sighed, turning towards the house. He blinked when he heard the click of the door and looked over to see said puffin's owner walking out to meet them, a frown on his face.

"Iceland!" Denmark cheered, running and hugging the island nation. Norway watched Iceland stiffen in surprise before an annoyed look spread across his face. As Denmark continued to get over-excited about seeing another nation again, Iceland shot Norway a glare that said '_You created him. Deal with it!'_

Sighing, the pale-haired nation fixed his hairclip before dragging the Dane off of his victim. "Come on. There's still more people for you to see."

O_O_O_O_O

"The bloody _fuck_ happened here?"

Gilbert's head snapped up, and his eyes moved from his blood-covered hands to rest on the Englishman who'd just made his way up the stairs. He gulped, opening his mouth, then closing it. Not sure what to say. After all, it had been so long...so long...since he'd last...His eyes went to the red-stained corpse on the library floor.

England's eyes followed his, and he frowned when he saw the dead Perfect's body. Ignoring the still-sobbing Hungarian woman nearby, and the Austrian who was trying to comfort her, he walked over to the fallen form of Ludwig, turning him onto his back to see his face.

"He okay?" the Brit asked dryly. For once Prussia couldn't help but thank God for England being there. Unlike a still-clueless couple nearby, he didn't break down at the sight of a blood-soaked dead body. Gilbert nodded, and Arthur hummed to himself for a moment, casting a glance back to the Perfect's body. "I suppose she touched him, then? You couldn't have waited until the witnesses had _left_ before flying into a berserk rage and killing someone?" he asked exasperatedly.

Prussia couldn't help having a corner of his mouth turn up. "Am I that predictable?" he asked, his voice strangely hoarse.

"_Yes,_" came the flat reply, making both nations blink as they looked to the one who had spoken.

Somehow, Elizaveta's head was now resting limply on the Austrian's shoulder, her reddened eyes closed. She must have passed out from shock. It was the look on Roderich's face, however, that made Gilbert's eyes widen.

"You..." he began. Austria nodded. England simply frowned.

"How?" the green-eyed country asked.

Austria snorted. "I've known the idiot for too long. Ask Prussia later," he said as he got up, holding Elizaveta bridal-style. "We should clean this mess up before anyone else comes. Was there anyone else downstairs with you?" he asked England.

The corner of the island nation's mouth twitched. "Ah, well...I may have said something just before I left..."

Prussia was the only one who caught on. "Great...'Tonio's having a seizure, isn't he?" the albino groaned. Austria raised an eyebrow at this, but Arthur waved them both off, making his way towards the corpse.

"Oh, he's fine. He just _looks_ like he's seizing," he told them, frowning down at the Perfects body. He looked back at the other two men, completely serious. "I'll clean this up. You two take care of Hungary and Germany."

Nodding, Prussia managed to haul his brother onto his back, wishing silently that he was still a scrawny kid instead of a big-ass German. Without another word, he and Austria left.

Prussia couldn't help but look over his shoulder, though. Couldn't shake the feeling that more blood would be spilled before this whole thing was over.

Oooooo

I was supposed to put an omake up before this...but its still not done. :\ Sorry, Neko...I'll just have to put it up later. Since I got done with this chapter earlier than I thought, I figured I might as well put it up before I forget. xp

Yippee! :D Chapter 15 is done! I know you were all waiting with bated breath for the confrontation between Gil and Luddy...but that'll have to wait until next time, bloody Perfects...moving right along...Gil's fine. Its pretty predictable that he killed someone (the first death in the story! O.o), and the only reason he was acting kind of awkward afterward is because its been so long since he's last had bloody on his hands.

A note on how Austria regained his memories. I figured he's known Gilbert for a long time, eh? So, as sad as it seems, he would immediately know Gilbert, just from having watched him kill someone. A strange, bloody, depressing, defective relationship. They're buds, they just don't know it. XD Or so my sister would say.

The look that Iceland gave Norway? Yeah, that little bit is sorta from Scandinavia and the World. Denmark was created from a bit of Norway after a geographic event. That's all I'm saying for now, since I have more stuff to talk about, and I don't want this author's note to be boringly loooong. If you wanna know more, go look it up. :3

The leader of the Perfects lost his sister...D: I wanted to point out how its actually a little sad. Despite the fact that they're on the opposing side, they're still a family, and it always hurts to lose family. :(

I wanted to add another funny part with Denmark for someone who only just reiewed...but I couldn't think of how to fit it. D:

But I did manage to write a Conquistador!Spain part for Spockie! Hope you like it! :3 I had a bit of trouble writing _that, _too, actually. I wasn't really sure what to write, at first. :\ But I found an interesting piece of info in one of my nerdy books about an Italian explorer named Verazzano who had explored a bit of coast in the 'New World' while working for the King of France. He even gave a bunch of stuff French names, and mapped it out. Of course, once he'd returned he found out that the king of France had been kidnapped by the Spaniards during a war, so when a Spanish explorer named Gomez re-mapped the coast and renamed everything with Spanish names, there wasn't much Verazzano could do. I thought France would probably have something to say to Spain about it, even though he'd only just gotten his king back on ransom. Of course, 'Tonio would have none of it. :p

Egypt was there the whole time! And now he and Russia are teaming up! Bet you didn't see that coming. :3 I'll try to explain more on that in the next chapter. Hopefully I'll be able to fit the Baltics in, too...argh, there's still so much to be done, so many characters to bring back in...

Anyways, I hope you all liked it! :3 I know I don't normally ask for reviews, but pleeeeee~aaaaasssse? I just _love_ feedback. It makes me super-happy! :D

'Til next time, everyone! :3


	16. Omake

Does anyone remember way back in chapter 1, where I mentioned how Alfred got Arthur to tutor him? This is based on part of the Memories doujin, where Ookami of Mystery actually _drew that out_. Cool, huh? Hope you enjoy! Thanks again, Neko~! :3

O_O_O_O_O

"And...what year did Columbus sail the ocean blue?"

Alfred's mind went blank, and he blinked at the Brit. "Ummm...1934?" he said, then winced at the look on Arthur's face. The older blond looked about ready to smash his head against the table, repeatedly.

"_NO,_" Arthur stated flatly. "You know, the only reason I tried to teach you that stupid little rhyme is because I thought you actually _remember_ it!"

Alfred rested his chin on his folded arms, not really listening to the man, anymore, just remembering how he'd even _gotten_ the Brit to tutor him...

O_O_O_O_O

**Attempt Number 1**

"So.." he began, rubbing the back of his head a little nervously. The man in front of him raised one eyebrow, silently urging him to go on and stop wasting his time. "I'm kinda failing my history class. I was thinking...maybe you could tutor me, or something. You're great at history-" That's it. Lay on a compliment. "-What do you say?" he finished, giving the older man his best puppy-dog pout. It worked on everyone else, why not hi-

"_No._" The reply was flat, and final, and was the only thing he heard before the door was slammed in his face..right on his nose.

'_That...really hurts...' _Alfred thought, but wouldn't let a broken(maybe) nose stop him. "Oh..okay, then..." he began. "I'll just try again later..._ouch_..." Maybe he should go home and _make sure_ his nose wasn't broken. Yeah, that sounded good.

O_O_O_O_O

**Attempt Number 2**

Alfred had found that it was best to get up early (or earlier than he was used to) in order to ambush his soon-to-be-tutor at the library. He'd learned this after a few failed attempts...where Arthur was conveniently not there. The trick was to catch him off-guard, so he couldn't get away.

That's exactly what he was doing now. Blue eyes set on the prize, who was sitting at one of the tables, Alfred crept closer. "Are you ready to start those history lessons yet, Arthur?" he chirped, leaning on the older man's head. Whoops. Bad move. This seemed to tick him off...a little.

"No! Get the hell off me!" he snapped, pushing the American's arm off and storming away.

Alfred sighed, scratching the back of his head. This whole persuasion thing was harder than it was made out to be. Slowly, a grin made its way onto his face.

Heroes never gave up.

O_O_O_O_O

**Attempt Number 3**

Another good way to ambush Arthur was between bookcases. The man never looked around him when he was putting returned books back on the shelves, so it was a perfect moment for him to strike.

"You know, this will look good on your resume if you decide to work at a cooler place than the library!" he said quickly as he slid in next to the man. He didn't want him to run off before he'd had his say, after all.

Arthur didn't even give him the satisfaction of jumping in surprise. "I like the library, thank you," he said flatly, and ignored Alfred for the rest of the day. Alfred mixed up the books he'd been re-shelving in protest. Needless to say, this didn't go over well with Arthur...or Soren...or _Berwald_.

"Holy shit, Leo, I thought he was gonna kill me!"

O_O_O_O_O

**Attempt Number 4**

"You know..." Alfred's best friend began. "_I'm_ not failing. I could-"

-Not finish that sentence? "Nah. Thanks, but you don't understand," Alfred interrupted, waving the brunet boy off. "Its _gotta_ be him."

Leonas sighed at his friend's determination(stubbornness?) and just left it at that, saying goodbye to him at the library doors.

When Alfred walked into the library...Arthur wasn't on the first floor. Grumbling, the blond teen made the trek up to the second floor, nodding to Roderich and Elizaveta who were at the piano. He found the Englishman nearby, re-shelving more books.

"Hey!" he said...just before Roderich began to play. The rest of his words were lost in the melody of the very _loud_, Chopin piece being played on the library's grand piano. Arthur looked unusually smug as Alfred tried to start again several times, only to fail when the piano managed to drown out his voice.

No wonder you could hear it from _outside_ the building.

O_O_O_O_O_O

**Attempt Number 5**

Alfred found the Brit re-shelving books, again. He always knew he'd find him there, if he wasn't at the front desk. He grinned, shoulder bumping lightly into one of the bookcases as he trotted over. "Hey, Ar-!" he was abruptly cut off when a landslide of books attacked him, bowling him over in his surprise. The blond blinked, brain still trying to register what had just happened. He looked up when a shadow fell over him, only to see Arthur standing over him, trying not to laugh.

"Should I have mentioned that Soren had done that shelf?" he asked sweetly. His smile fell as soon as Alfred stood up.

"Wow, that sucks for you. After all, I don't have any tutoring. No reason to stick around. Have fun cleaning it up!" the American chirped, quickly making his escape.

"You bloody-!"

O_O_O_O_O

**Attempt Number 6**

Alfred set down the his books, watching as Arthur took the top one. Grinning, the teen rested his elbows on the counter, leaning foreword.

"You have to say yes sometime, you know~!" he teased lightly.

Green orbs snapped to his face, glaring. "No!"

Alfred's smile stayed where it was. "I'll just come back tomorrow," he promised. Arthur just hissed and shoved the checked out books into his arms.

O_O_O_O_O

**Attempt Number 7**

Alfred grinned as he walked up to the checkout desk where Arthur waited for him, a scowl on his face.

"Heya!" the American teen greeted cheerfully, raising one hand.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair as he let out a frustrated sigh. "You're not going to leave me alone...are you?" he grumbled, eying Alfred warily.

The younger blond's grin widened. "No."

There was a slight pause, then the Brit leaned foreword onto the desk, resting his chin on his palm. "Fine. Meet me here tomorrow at eight am," he instructed.

"Yes!" Alfred cheered, jumping for joy before he started to run out of the library to go tell Leonas. "I win!"

"And you better not be late!" Arthur called after him, ready to grin his teeth at the younger blond's antics.

_Why do I have a bad feeling about this...?_

00000000

Bwaha! Finally finished. The very end is a bit rushed, since I need to go to bed, soon. :\ But! I added in two scenes that weren't in the comic. :3 Thought I should expand a bit, ya know?

I added a bit at the end of number three...just thought that Alfred would do something silly and childish like that. Plus, I know how ticked off librarians get when you do that. O.o

Number four was something I came up with. I thought Arthur might go for the strategic move and position himself near the piano. Those things can get pretty loud, sometimes. O.o

Number five was also my creation. :3 It was loosely based off of a conversation I had with Neko. XD I figured Soren would be the most likely to put the books onto the shelves wrong...allowing for a landslide to fall on any unsuspecting person who accidentally happened to bump into it, lol. Of course, Al still manages to turn this to his advantage. Yay for improv! lol

Anyways, I hope I did okay. This is just a little fun thing to read while you're all waiting for the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy~! :3


	17. Chapter 16

_Who was he? Where was he? He was a child lost on a battlefield. A little boy lost in a world full of blood and death. He stumbled over the barren earth, careful to avoid any bodies he came upon._

_He looked down at his hands. Red. Covered in blood. It wasn't his blood. He knew that much. How could he know that, but not who he was? He wasn't sure. Didn't know. So many things he didn't know._

_A shadow fell over him, and he looked up with wide blue eyes, startled. A man in white stained with red stood over him._

"_Nun...was haben wir denn hier?"_

_O_O_O_O_O_

Blue eyes fluttered open for a moment before his hands came up to rub his face, eyes squeezing shut again. Ugh, his head hurt. He blamed it on the bird. The stupid, stupid monster bir-

Eyes snapped open as he sat bolt upright, wincing when it caused him more pain. Everything was coming back to him, now. The library, the bird...

Gilbert.

Ludwig's face was in his hands again. How? He couldn't understand it. His brother was dead. He'd been to the funeral. He'd _seen the body_. Yet...if his brother was dead, then how the hell had he shown up in the library? What had _happened_ in the library? One minute, he'd been staring at his not-dead brother, the next a shadow, then...nothing. The German held back a groan of frustration. What in the world was _going on_?

Movement at the door to the—he only just now noticed he was on a bed in a medium-sized bedroom—room caught his attention, and he looked up to see Roderich step into the room.

"Ah, you're awake," the Austrian said, pushing his glasses up a bit, then sighed. "Gilbert will be..._overjoyed,_ I'm sure."

Ludwig sucked in a breath, eyes widening slightly as Roderich left the room. He wasn't prepared for this, didn't know what he was supposed to do. What-

His train of thought stopped as soon as a familiar albino man walked into the room. Gilbert. His older brother. His _dead_ older brother, though that was up for debate these days.

There was an awkward silence as the two brothers stared at each other. So man questions were running through his head, yet his mouth couldn't form the words. Ludwig vaguely noticed that his brother was wearing a different outfit than before—oh, the things you notice when in shock—before Gilbert started making a strange sound, a harsh hiss-like sound he couldn't identify. It took another moment for Ludwig to realize that his brother was laughing_sneering__**snickering**_ at him.

"Kesesesese...mein Gott, West. Only you could do nothing wrong and still get into such a fucked-up un-awesome situation," the albino teased, smirking.

"Wh-what?" Ludwig stuttered uncharacteristically, mind still reeling.

"Was," his brother snapped.

The blond blinked. "What?" he asked again, only to receive a red-eyed glare from his brother. _Dead_ brother. How_howhow?_

"Was, _was!_ Not _was_, for the record. Vuh-ahs. Was! You know 'what' it means. Its _your_ language, mein bruder. Use it every chance you get. _Got it_?" he scolded, leaning in until their noses nearly touched.

Ludwig nodded, still not quite able to wrap his mind around all of this. "Ye—er...J-ja...Okay..."

"Sehr gut!" Gilbert praised with a grin, pulling back quickly and giving back Ludwig's personal bubble before the blond could even blink.

Ludwig stared at his brother for a moment longer before it all came crashing down in his head. "How are you _alive?_"

The grin on his brother's face widened, but it was somehow different. Feral, predatory, a strange glint in his blood-red eyes. The large German felt as though a cold blade were tickling up his spine, goosebumps prickling up his arms.

"I never died, Luddy. "Whoever told you that has an over-due play-date with _me_."

O_O_O_O_O

She woke to a soft hand brushing a lock of hair away from her face, caressing her cheek. Opening her eyes, she saw Roderich's concerned face looking down at her.

"Oh...Roddy, I had the most horrible dream..." she began, but was silenced by a finger to her lips.

"Hush, Elizaveta. It was only a dream," he assured her. "Go back to sleep."

Felling content and safe she closed her eyes, surrendering herself once more to sleep.

She dreamt of blood and fire.

O_O_O_O_O

**Several Hours Ago**

The room had gone dead silent. Not that that meant anything to someone h=who saw as many ghosts as him, but that wasn't really all that relevant. Or was it? England viewed those seated with a critical green gaze. For once, no one was laughing. No one was teasing, or joking. No one questioned his sanity. After all that had happened, they _needed_ his expertise. For once, they were all taking him seriously.

"Its a...wh-what?" Seychelles asked, eyes wide. The others looked grim, but just as confused. Hong Kong's eyes had widened, and he looked a bit pale. He knew what England was talking about. Even Greece seemed to be fully awake.

"A shapeshifter," he repeated. "That's what we have in the basement. That's what we're dealing with. A whole pack—_family_ of them."

"_Family of some."_

"_Family of many!"_

"_Yet all alone."_

"_No parents, no granny!"_

England glared at the air above him, and then rest of the countries in the room looked a little uncomfortable. After all, now there was a chance there was _actually something there_, and they just couldn't see it. England couldn't help but feel a little smug at this, but shook the feeling off.

"Well? _Elaborate_, Old Man," Australia drawled, feet on the coffee table. England ignored it while New Zealand scowled, pushing the blond's feet back to the floor. Both Oceanic countries glared at each other.

"Yeah, some more information would be nice," the Netherlands put in, successfully distracting the two and averting a would-be fight.

Arthur sighed, pulling his thoughts together before he began.

"Now, as you all know, there are many different kinds of shapeshifters mentioned in various different cultures, just like with all magical or supernatural creatures. We seem to be dealing with a certain species-"

"Which is?" Australia pressed, quieting when England gave him glare #43: don't interrupt me, insolent child.

"These shapeshifters are constantly shifting from the moment they are born, and are constantly in a great deal of pain because of it. They usually don't live very long, because of this. However, there have been some rare cases where a shapeshifter of this species has survived long enough to build up enough power to control their shifting..." Arthur hesitated before continuing. "Of course...if the intense pain doesn't kill the body...it irreparably damages the mind...anyway, the shapeshifter in the basement is still young. Its shifting is rather rapid."

"So...why do they want us? And how did they gain control of that other reality?" a blond nation whose name he could not remember asked.

"_We know."_

"_We know!"_

"_Won't tell."_

"_Won't tell!"_

"_Find him."_

"_The Brother."_

"_He knows."_

"_He'll tell."_

"_He'll **kill**."_

"I'm not sure," England replied, mouth set in a grim line. "But it can't be anything good."

_O_O_O_O_O_

"_Poor big Brother, all alone."_

"_Wants to bring his sisters home."_

"_Wants to take the hurt away."_

"_So they can smile and laugh and play."_

_O_O_O_O_O_

**Present**

He'd screwed up.

His lungs burned as his body gasped for air. His short legs pounded the sidewalk, trying their best to cover ground. To get him away_away_away. Get him away from _It_.

_Was this what an 'attack' was like?_

Sealand didn't know. He'd never been 'attacked' before. But it was just like the stories he'd been told.

Sealand had screwed up.

He couldn't remember how. Couldn't think about it. The terror gripping him wasn't letting him think. Run_run_run.

Don't look back.

Keep running.

He tried not to slow down as he rounded a corner, and managed to fish his cell phone from his pocket.

Someone help me.

_Save me._

O_O_O_O_O

Greece didn't know why he was doing this. He should be back at Home Base, napping on the couch. His arm was still in a sling, after all. No longer broken, but the muscles were still too strained to function properly without pain.

He looked down at the item in his hand, then back at the closed door in front of him. He didn't want to be here. Why was he here? Corporal Cat rubbed against his leg with a soft mew, causing the irritated nation to look down.

Right. It was Car—Cam-Cah-that one guy's fault. America's brother. When they had found out the Perfects were after _Him_ and _why_, they'd had decided that _Greece_ should be the one to get Him to safety. Something about improving relations, or some other...yeah.

Sighing deeply the brunette nation braced himself...and knocked. He couldn't help but avert his eyes as soon as the door opened.

"Hello?" came the confused greeting in a voice he knew all too well.

"Put this on," he ordered, holding out the mask he'd brought—Turkey's mask—still not looking.

"Uh...wh-"

"Just do it."

"..."

The mask left his hand, and Greece found himself breathing a sigh of relief.

"Okay," he began, looking back. He had to suppress a wince when he saw the face (and mask) of the man who didn't remember he was Turkey.

"Sadiq Adnan," Heracles began again.

The Turkish man sighed, probably starting to lose his patience. "Yeah? That's me."

"You are in grave danger. _Come with me if you want to live_."

"...What?"

"Its a quote from a great American movie. Its very 'action-packed' and really grips your attention. I woke up just in time to hear that," Greece explained, stifling a yawn.

"What the he-"

"I know what happened to Gupta."

This stopped the man in his tracks. He stared at Heracles in shock from beneath the mask. "Wh...h-how..."

"They know you saw. Now, they want you. Come with me if you want to live."

Who knew movie quotes could be so powerful?

O_O_O_O_O

Russia waited silently, watching Egypt cautiously. The warmer country had his eyes closed, seemingly concentrating very hard on something. Ivan did not want to distract him. The last time he had distracted Gupta while he'd been doing this...

The large man smacked a hand to his neck, successfully stopping the mosquito, then pulled his scarf tighter despite the stifling hot and humid air.

He liked beaches. Not jungles. He officially hated jungles.

The world around him grew fuzzy, a high-pitched keening_screeching**screaming**_ sound backed by the buzz of static filling the air. The country squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth, covering his ears with his hands in an attempt to block the noise out.

Then, just as soon as it had started, the moment was over. Russia let his hands fall to his sides and opened his eyes. The air in front of Egypt was ripped. That was the only way he could describe it. Russia wasn't sure how the other country was able to do this (maybe it had something to do with his mother?). Not that he could get any answers out of the other country.

"Wonderful!" Ivan cheered, clapping his hands together once before he began to push the other man foreword. "Good job, Comrade! Now we can get out of this horrible place. Did I ever tell you about the time..."

In order to fill the uncomfortable silence, he talked. It was the most Russia had talked in his entire life.

O_O_O_O_O

The pet shop was quiet, uneventful, but not unattended. Kiku noticed this as soon as he'd walked in. He'd also noticed that the man playing the PSP behind the counter was not Heracles. As soon as he'd walked in, this other man had noticed him, as well.

"Hey there!" he greeted with a huge grin, waving slightly. Kiku blinked. His accent was...different, but also kind of familiar. If only he could place it...

"Heracles is not in, today?" he asked, doing his best not to rudely blurt out the question that was bouncing around in his head.

The man shook his head, bringing Kiku's attention to his wildly spiky hair. "Nope. He's busy with something. I'm filling in for him. You can call me...Holland," he offered, turning of the PSP in his hands.

Holland...wasn't that what a lot of people called the Netherlands? Wait, that was silly. What was he thinking about? It was just a name.

Kiku bowed. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I am-"

"Here to see the cats?" the man who called himself Holland interrupted, grinning.

Kiku couldn't say no.

O_O_O_O

Belarus rolled over in bed to glare at the cell phone sitting on her nightstand. She as on break. Finally had the chance to sleep in. Why couldn't her phone just _shut up_?

With a growl, the pale-haired woman snatched the phone. Laying on her stomach, she checked the caller ID before sliding it open.

"_What?_ This had _better_ be good, Estonia, or I'm going to-"

"I think we might know where he is."

O_O_O_O_O

"Here," Matthew said, setting a plate in front of Alfred, then Seychelles. His brother blinked, poking at the food lightly with his fork.

"This...is..."

"Pancakes," the Canadian confirmed. "For dinner."

Seychelles let out a startled squeak as the American jumped out of his chair to hug his twin, nearly knocking him over.

"I can't see me lovin' nobody but you, for all my liiiiiiiiife~!"

Canada sighed, cheeks tinged red. His brother was still his brother, memories or no, and he was till the most immature person Matthew had ever met.

"Off," he ordered. Seychelles giggled when he had to push Alfred back down onto the chair.

"When you're with me, baby th—mmph!"

Violet eyes narrowed in satisfaction as the blond swallowed, then began to cough. Blue eyes locked with violet in a glare.

"That was mean. You're mean," Alfred accused.

Canada smiled, spearing another chunk of pancake with the fork and holding it out to his brother. "Would you like syrup with that?" he asked sweetly.

Seychelles found herself laughing out loud, now. The North American brothers were so funny when they were together. And now that Canada had his brother back, he seemed to much happier. The thought made her smile, happy for the two.

A crash and the sound of breaking glass from the other room caused them all to freeze.

"What...was that?" Alfred asked slowly, blue eyes going to Kumajirou in the corner eating a doughnut, making sure the bear was still there. The thought that it may be something else made Seychelles pale, and she scooted closer to him. Matthew went straight for the locked cupboard.

"Seychelles," he said as he unlocked the cupboard, eyes never leaving the kitchen door. "Take Al and hide in the woods. Climb a tree," he suggested as an afterthought.

Alfred's attention snapped to his brother. "_What?_ What are yo-"

The door exploded inwards, sending shards of wood flying all over the kitchen. Alfred pulled Seychelles down with him, covering her with his body in an attempt to shield her from the onslaught. Two noises caused his head to shoot up.

The roar drew his attention to the enraged shapeshifter at the door.

The click drew his attention to his brother aiming a hunting rifle.

There was a loud _crack_**bang** as the weapon discharged, hitting the creature in its ever-shifting shoulder. It howled in pain, writhing in the dorrway.

He should move. He knew he should. Get Seychelles out of here. _Movemove**move**_. But he couldn't. His eyes flickered back to his brother.

The Canadian's face as calm, his hands steady as he re-leaded his gun with expert speed, bringing it back up to sight his target.

He looked like a soldier.

The thought startled Alfred, and the more he looked, the more another image overlapped Matthews. It was an image of a nightmare, a ghastly trench carved into a once beautiful countryside. An image of Matthew, face covered in dirt and mud. His usually silky blond hair was nearly brown and matted with dirt, pulled into a small ponytail to keep it out of his dull purple eyes.

The image was broken when the shapeshifter moved before Canada could shoot. Alfred watched in horror as his brother was knocked over and pinned down by the thing, the hunting rifle knocked from his hands. The terrified blond watched as the gun fell, clattering to the kitchen floor and skidding across, stopping just an inch away from his hand.

_When Johnny comes marching home again, hurrah, hurrah..._

It all went black.

000000

Woo! Done! :D

That first sentence of German I have _should_ translate to 'Well...what do we have here?' Hopefully. I'm not very good at German. :\ Please correct me if you know. I know for a fact that 'Sehr gut' means very good. My old German teacher used to say it every time the class managed to get something right. XD 

I know the confrontation was a little...un-confrontational. But that's kinda what happens when Gilbert's your older brother. He's pretty good at distracting people from the more important stuff. XD I hope it was okay, though.

You now know the enemy! How does it feel? Satisfying? Surprising? I know there are a lot of different legends about shapeshifters, so I just put down _my_ version of them as just one of the different breeds of shapeshifters. I love writing Iggy's fairies. They're so fun!

Sealand's in trouble! I'm...actually not sure how he got the Perfect's attention, just yet. But he did. Poor kid is screwed. But don't worry! The rescue team won't let him down. :3

Bwahaha...My sister helped me come up with the part between Heracles and Sadiq. Turkey saw the Perfects take Gupta away. He's actually been worrying about the even and why it even happened this whole time. Ha..love the Terminator. XD

Egypt can make Rips. Since I can't have _him_ explain it in the chapter(talk, damn you!) I'll just explain it here. His mother taught him how to make these rips so that he could communicate with his Gods and...stuff. XD Poor Russia has to talk enough for two people. D:

Yes! I think that last segment was my fave. Mattie Al and Seychelles were the only three left in the house, since the others were off doing stuff. Throw in some brotherly love...then BAM! Perfect escapes from the basement. Badass Canada. Badass cliffy, lol

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! :D


	18. Chapter 17

Seychelles didn't know what was going on. One minute she'd been laughing, enjoying breakfast with the North American twins. The rest had happened too fast. The door. The shapeshifter. Canada on the ground. The monster opening its ever-shifting jaws. _America_.

That part had startled her the most. The way the terrified look on Alfred's face _shifted_ into something hard and determined. Eyes wide, Seychelles watched as America shifted his position, grabbed his brother's fallen hunting rifle, aimed, and fired, all in one swift motion. He swore softly when it only hit in the 'shifter's already wounded shoulder, its ever-shifting body throwing off his aim just as it had Matthew's.

The thing howled in pain as the shot sent it reeling back and America darted foreword, slamming his shoulder into it and sending it sprawling.

Seychelles quickly scrambled to Canada's side placing a soft hand on his cheek, careful not touch a still-bleeding scrape. But Canada wasn't watching her. His violet eyes were glued to his brother as America pressed the barrel of the gun to the wounded shapeshifter's head.

O_O_O_O_O

The atmosphere in the morgue was overwhelming, he nearly walked out. But he didn't. Couldn't. He had to see her. Had to hold her hand one last time...

A hand touched his shoulder, and he looked over into his sister Jessica's worried brown eyes.

"Brother...you don't have to..." she began. He put a finger to her lips, smiling sadly.

"Yes. I do," he whispered, and walked over to where the body was. His two sisters who had come with him stayed close, a comforting presence as he reached out with a trembling hand to pull the sheet away from the face...

He choked back a sob at the sight of her and had to avert his gaze. It was Cynthia. Little Cynthia who had loved to read and smile. She wouldn't be smiling anymore. Would never wake him up in the middle of the night to sit on his bed and tell him about the latest thing she'd read at the library. Her beautiful laugh had been silenced forever.

There were three deep long gashes along one of her cheeks, and he knew that if he pulled away the rest of the sheet he would find her once-beautiful body mangled and torn. His eyes burned and he bit his lip. So much pain...He grabbed at his chest weakly as if he were trying to pull the hurt from his heart, the fabric of his t-shirt rough against his fingers. He didn't even notice the small gasp from the doorway, the sound of small feet scurrying away. Didn't notice when Jessica slipped away, leaving Amy to deal with her distraught brother.

The pain, it was suffocating. He hadn't felt this much pain for a long time. The pain that had nearly cost him his mind and his life. But this pain was different. It hurt _so much more_. He looked back at Cynthia's unmoving face, trembling fingers reaching out to gently close her clouded brown eyes once so full of life. Why? Why did she have to...? He was so close. All he wanted was to make his sister's happy. Now he'd never see one of them again.

Feeling Amy's arms around him he turned and held her close, burying his face into his sister's soft brown hair.

For the first time in centuries, Leonas cried.

O_O_O_O_O

"_Losing sisters left and right."_

"_The future no longer looks so bright."_

O_O_O_OO_O

"Oh dear, Latvia. You are still so very small!" Russia despaired as Egypt watched impassively.

'_I won't get any bigger if you keep crushing me!' _Raivis thought as he internally panicked, unable to do anything against Ivan's bone-crushing hug.

Lithuania was trembling off to the side glancing nervously at the Rip the two countries had come through, then back at Russia. He tried not to look at Egypt. The African country was starting to creep him out with his silent staring.

Estonia sighed as he walked back to the group. Russia and Egypt had popped out of their rip just behind the McDonald's. The Baltics had just been taking a shortcut when it had happened, scaring the crap out of all of them. Of course, as soon as Russia had greeted them in his native language Latvia and Lithuania had both had mental break-downs, recovering all of their memories.

"I've c-called your sister," Estonia said, doing his best to repress a shudder when a certain purple gaze was directed at him.

"Katyusha remembers?" Ivan asked with a look of childish delight.

Estonia winced. "Ah...noooooo..."

"Oh, my precious Vanya! I'_**m**_ so h_**a**_ppy you'_**r**_e al_**r**_ight! Van_**y**_a..."

Russia's purple eyes widened in fear. "N-natalia...

O_O_O_O_O

"Ah! Should I put these books over here, Su-san?"

Berwald looked up from the books he'd been stamping to see Tino already walking off. He sighed, stamping the card and putting it back in the book before moving onto the next. Couldn't the Fin have waited for his answer? Then again, ever since that incident with Amy, Soren, and that other guy things had been rather awkward and tense between Berwald and Tino, and neither man could tell why.

The blond sighed again, barely noticing when a new person stepped up to the counter, his hand already reflexively going for the next book.

"Heya, Svede!"

Berwald's intense gaze snapped over to pin the smiling blond who seemed largely unfazed. He wasn't alone. He'd brought the slightly shorter man from before, as well as another dressed in brown and white.

"Wh't're y'd'ing h're?" he growled.

Soren's grin only widened. "Just showing Norge and Iceland how funny you look, reduced to a librarian. Nice to see you and Finland talking, again. I thought he was still pissed at you over that thing with Russia," the Dane chirped conversationally.

The Swedish man's eyes widened, the words striking a chord within his mind.

"Wh-wh't're y-"

Denmark turned to Norway and Iceland with a grin as Berwlad doubled over, grabbing his head.

"See, Norgie? Easy as pie. You just have to keep pushing!" he said cheerfully.

Iceland shook his head as Norway rolled his eyes. "And what if that didn't bring back as much as you thought, _Danmark_?" he demanded in annoyance.

Demark's grin widened, a strange look in his eye. "Then we _keep pushing._"

O_O_O_O_O

"Lovino, maybe you should calm down, _mon a-_"

"MY BROTHER IS FUCKING MISSING AND YOU WANT ME TO _CALM DOWN?_"

Antonio winced, rubbing his temples with a small groan. After his little...'episode' at the library, the Spaniard had woken up with a huge headache, and one less Italian. He and Lovino had quickly gone to Francis' house where he could grab a painkiller and hope that it would kick in before Lovino's yelling made his head explode.

"When did you last see Feliciano?" the Frenchman asked reasonably.

The auburn-haired Italian opened his mouth to yell again, but Antonio quickly interjected.

"Just before that girl was killed," he said, hoping that the poor Italian hadn't gotten scared by all of the policemen if he'd still been there at that point. "He was going upstairs to visit Ludwig."

"Potato bastard..." Lovino added, muttering, but the other two men ignored him.

Francis frowned, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, I have no way of getting in contact with him..."

An image flashed through Antonio's mind, and his head shot up. "Prussia!" he blurted.

The other two looked at him strangely and he cleared his throat nervously. "I mean Gilbert. Call Gilbert. He'll know where to find Ludwig. They might even been in the same room."

O_O_O_O_O

"Here ya go, West!"

Ludwig blinked as a plate full of food was set in front of him. "Tha—er..." Gilbert glared at him, and the blond German quickly switched gears. "_Danke_."

As Ludwig hesitantly began to eat, Gilbert sat down across from him. He was pretty proud of his little brother. After all, he was taking this all really well, despite having all the wrong memories. Then again, this _was_ Ludwig. Of course his little brother would be just awesome like that.

Then again...Prussia hadn't exactly told the blond about the whole country thing. Yeah. He might freak out about that part. Just a little. Or maybe a lot. He was _so_ not looking foreword to explaining that. He just hoped his brother remembered it before Gilbert was actually forced to explain it himself. That could get messy. And loud.

"So...you remembered Gilbird's 1940 birthday?" he asked with a smirk. Gilbert watched in silent glee and satisfaction as his brother accidentally started to choke for a few moments before he thumped his chest a few times and swallowed, staring at the albino ex-country incredulously.

"H-how did you-?"

Laughter danced in his red eyes as the Prussian smirked, pointing to the small yellow poof atop his head. "A little birdy told me...hang on," he added with a frown as his cell phone went off. Prussia quickly located the device and answered it, trying to keep the annoyance from his voice.

"Hallo?"

"_Pru—Gilbert?"_

"Ja, _Espana?_" the man teased slightly, catching the slip-up. He knew he would get a better reaction if he said it like that, and was rewarded by a slight gasp. England wasn't doing too bad on the memory front.

Gilbert frowned when he heard a small commotion on the other line, then heard someone else take the phone.

"_My house, my phone. The two of you can go relieve your sexual tensions elsewhere."_

"_You bas-!"_

"_Wh-Wha-?"_

"_GO__!"_

Gilbert blinked. "Francis?"

"_Oui. Bonjour. Now, we have a bit of a problem. Do you know where Ludwig is?"_

Confused, Prussia frowned. "Ja..."

"_Give him the phone, please."_

Not really sure how the Frenchman had known his brother was in the room,Gilbert did as requested. His frown deepened as he watching his brother's face go from confused, to shocked, to angry.

"He's _missing?_"

Okay, that didn't sound good.

O_O_O_O_O

Australia was bored. His dad's other-reality house was seriously boring. He'd even gotten New Zealand to admit it. Neither country was allowed to break anything, so both had confined themselves to the couch. Neither Oceanic country could find anything good to watch on the television. No rugby. No football (or as Alfred and Matthew called it; soccer). Nothing.

His dad's London house had always been more fun. Especially when Ozzy had been able to smuggle a crocodile and a dozen kookaburras past customs. Ozzy snickered softly to himself at the memory. His dad hadn't found that funny, but _he_ sure as hell had. Australia ran a hand through his blond hair, glancing over at the dark-haired man who sat next to him, channel-surfing.

"So...that tattoo permanent?" he asked, referring to the intricate design that currently adorned one side of the other country's face.

"Nope. Just Mauri."

"Ah..."

There was a long, awkward silence.

"...Hey, Kiwi."

A sigh. "Yeah, Aussie?"

"Why's a firetruck red?"

New Zealand paused in his channel-surfing. He knew an interesting answer was coming. Something not-boring. He wanted to hear it.

"...Dunno. Why?"

Australia grinned. "Well...a firetruck is red because it has six wheels and six men. Six plus six is twelve. Twelve is the number of inches on a ruler. A ruler is Queen Elizabeth. Elizabeth is also the name of a ship. A ship sails the seven seas. Seas have fish. Fish have fins. The Fins fought the Russians, and Russians are red. So, a firetruck is red 'cause its always rushin'."

New Zealand blinked, then frowned. "Russia would kill you if he heard that," he pointed out nonchalantly.

Australia just shrugged, grabbing the remote from the Kiwi. "Hey, that's just how it was taught to me. You keep skipping channels," he pointed out.

New Zealand raised an eyebrow. "Which ones...?"

The blond frowned. "All the ones that end in sex. Why-"

The Mauri snickered. "All the channels that end in _six_?"

His neighbour glared at him. "You planned that, you sneaky Kiwi bastard," he snarled. "I am _so_ having the old man make fish and chips, tonight."

The two were saved from further argument when the phone rang. Both Oceanic nations looked at each other for a moment before both jumped up at the same time, pushing each other and jumping over furniture in their race for the phone. In the end, Australia had a bloody nose, and New Zealand was answering the phone.

"Hello—Sealand? What's...where are you...? Got it."

"Wab ub?" Australia asked, a handful of tissues pressed to his nose.

"Peter's in trouble."

O_O_O_O_O

Green eyes scanned the unconscious form on the couch before turning back to Matthew. He'd come as soon as his former colony had called (several times to make sure he didn't forget) and had been surprised by the scene he'd arrived at, to say the least. A destroyed house, and a dead shapeshifter in the kitchen.

"Where's Seychelles?" he asked, frowning.

Canada sighed, running a hand through his wavy blond hair. "Upstairs. I told her to give Komatoma a bath," he replied.

Ignoring the fact that he was pretty sure that wasn't the bear's name, England got back to the matter at hand. "So you're saying...he was himself long enough to kill it, but passed out immediately afterward?"

Canada nodded in confirmation.

England sighed. "From the sounds of it, America's memory block is a lot stronger than we expected," he concluded.

Matthew blinked, violet eyes wide. "What? But why?" he asked, looking over at his brother's unconscious form worriedly.

Arthur groaned, putting his face in his hands. "Argh, this is getting too _bloody_ complicated."

Canada rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it, eh?"

O_O_O_O_O

"Hey. Are you, like, okay? You should, like, totally wake up now, you know."

Feliciano opened his eyes. He was in a dark place. Nothing but black surrounded him. Wait...that wasn't right...

"Hey you, like, woke up!"

The Italian was immediately more alert, heart pounding as he sat up and noticed the blond sitting cross-legged next to him. Where was he? Who was this person? The last thing he remembered was going up the stairs to see Ludwig...

The blond was talking, again. Actually he (he was _pretty_ sure this person was a guy) kind of looked familiar. Feliciano just couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"We've, like, been kidnapped, okay? I mean, fer serious. Like, really actually kidnapped. Which, like, totally sucks 'cuz there's, like, no cellphone reception. We've just gotta, like, wait for the rescue party or something," the blond explained. Feliciano nodded, eyes wide. He hope the rescue would come soon. He was getting hungry.

"O-okay..."

The blond immediately pulled out a deck of cards. "Are you, like, any good at Go Fish?"

000000000

Ugh. I had this written up in a journal...in bright green ink. Do you guys know how hard it is to concentrate on green ink letters when you're trying to type something up? Not fun. What was I _thinking?_

Lessee...what do I have to say about these sections...?

First one? Awesome Alfred-kicking-butt scene. Awesome. 'Nuff said.

I kinda teared up a bit writing the part at the morgue...I tried to make it sad, but I dunno if I did a good job. I can't really go on myself tearing up. I tend to cry during a lot of remotely sad scenes in movies and books, sooooo...yeah.

Russia and the Baltics reunited! Its just so typical that Russia would scared those two into remembering. I just _had_ to write it. XD If you look carefully at what Belarus is saying, you'll notice that certain letters are in bold. You get a cookie if you can tell me what they spell out, lol XD

Ahhh...yeah, tension between Sweden and Finland. The two aren't actually on the best of terms, I've found. To put it bluntly, shit went down between the three (Russia being the third), and Finland still isn't too happy with Sweden over it. If you want details, you'll have to look it up yourselves, 'cuz I can't remember where I read about it. :\ Sorry.

Oh, no! Feli's been kidnapped, and now _everyone_'s getting involved, memories or no.

Yup, I'm still making Ozzy blond. And New Zeland has a Mauri tattoo on his face. XD Hey, its part of his culture. Thought I'd stick it in.

Australia. England's house. A dozen kookaburras and a crocodile. You do the math. Tell me what you come up with. XD

The firetruck thing is actually something I heard on BBC radio 1 satellite. I switched up the ending a teensy bit, but that's basically exactly how I heard it. XD I figured that's how England would have taught it to Ozzy, too, lol I just love writing New Zealand and Australia together. Aussies and Kiwis always have that frienemy thing going on. Great for phone races. XD

Oh, and before I forget, the part with the channels? Yeah, when Australians say 'six' it sounds like they're saying 'sex'. That's why New Zealand sneakily set Ozzy up for it. The reason Australia threatened New Zealand with fish and chips is because Kiwis tend to say that as 'fush and chups'. XD Have I mentioned how much I love those two?

Anyway, so now Poland and italy are waiting for the rescue. Too bad they don't have Egypt, like Russia did. Their holding cell is a bit different from the other two, as well.

But, but, but! I hope you all liked it. :3 Thanks for reading! :D

At the bottom is graffiti from my best friend. She came over, hijacked my computer, and read the chapter before anyone else. O.o -eyetwitch-

**OOOGA BOOGA I AM AWESOME -gets shot by Prussia- "Like hell you are!"**


	19. Chapter 18

He'd taken a wrong turn.

In his panic he tripped, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his hands out on automatic reflex, rolling a bit as his body hit the woodchips. He was pretty sure a few splinters had dug their way into his hands, but he didn't care. He was up and running again as soon as his legs could move.

At least, he _would_ have been, if his ankle hadn't collapsed beneath him, making the boy cry out in pain. He glanced back at the Perfect who was now walking calmly towards him from across the park, face flushed with the thrill of the hunt. Hunting _him_. But not anymore. Sealand was trapped. The boy tried to get up again, wobbling a bit when he was on his feet. He tried to take a step, but his ankle threatened to give out again, pain shooting up his leg. He must have sprained it when he'd tripped.

Blue eyes locked onto the creature coming towards him. She looked human, of course. They all did. Peter was absolutely terrified of this thing that looked like a normal human girl. He hadn't realized, when he'd first bullied Canada into letting him help (funny that he'd remember the name, now), that there'd come a time when he'd be in so much danger. Hadn't considered the danger at all.

Now, Sealand felt like he was in way over his head. He tripped, falling backwards and began to scoot back as the Perfect advanced, only stopping when his back hit the side of the plastic slide on the playstructure. Pulse pounding in his ears, the boy closed his eyes and—

_Whump._

_Thud!_

Sealand's blue eyes shot open, and he nearly cried out in relief at what he saw. Ozzy clapped appreciatively as he walked over, a huge grin on his face.

"Aw, man. That was beautiful, mate! You alright there, kiddo?" he asked, looking over at Sealand.

The micro-nation nodded, eyes wide. "Y-yeah..."he stuttered, looking over at New Zealand and the Perfect.

The Oceanic nation had a scowl on his face as he struggled to hold the girl_not_**thing**, making the intricate Mauri tattoo on his face look even more intimidating. Australia frowned, stepping in to help his neighbour hold the thing down.

"Crikey, this thing is str—huh?"

There were tears rolling down her cheeks, brown eyes bright and wet, rimmed in red. All three nations stared in shock. The Perfect was..._crying_.

"You, you _killed_ her, and you do-don't even c-care! You m-_monsters!_"

O_O_O_O_O_O_O

As far back as he could remember, the pain had always been there. The only constant in his ever-shifting life, slowly driving him insane. Slowly killing him. He hadn't known how to stop it, hadn't had the strength to. Those early years all seemed to blur together.

Then, he'd met his first. She'd been beautiful, powerful, built on blood and sacrifice. He had tricked her, caught her.

Drained her.

Every bit of energy he'd taken for himself, not caring that she was slowly dying, wasting away in the prison-world he'd stolen from the Fae once-upon-a-time. Her energy had sustained him, stopped the pain while all around him the once-beautiful empire crumbled. He'd been freed from the curse of his birth. He'd found the answer, a way to stop the pain, a way to live.

What had happened to make it all go so wrong?

Leonas looked up as his sister Amy entered his bedroom. She looked in disgust at the mess around her—clothes strewn all over, video games stacked around the television. HALO had been set onto a separate shelf. \he hadn't had anyone to play it with after Alfred had gone.

Amy shook her head. "You really need to clean up," she said, walking over to him. Leonas just let himself fall back onto his bed, head hitting the pillow with a soft _whump_.

"Greta's gone," he murmured. His sister froze, eyes wide.

"No...not her, too...how...?"

His eyes closed. He didn't want to see the look on her face.

"Dunno. I...just kinda felt her wink out. Gone. She's gone..."And an empty space sat in his heart where she once was. Stars. Little twinkling stars in his mind. He could see them, shining bright. All of his sisters. A star flickered, and his eyes snapped open.

"No...oh, please, no..."

_Twinkle twinkle little star_

_I scream for help, but you're too far_

_O_O_O_O_OO_

The first thing he noticed was the pounding pain in his head. Rhythmic. His heartbeat. His blue eyes fluttered open, and he felt like Peter Parker for a moment when he realized he could see...or maybe not so well with his eyes closed. He felt like he had a hangover. Pounding head, damn light sensitivity, yeah. Definitely felt like a hangover. But he hadn't been drinking earlier—

Woah! Stop the horse. Back up.

_What the hell had happened?_

Alfred opened his eyes again, sitting up with a small groan. He couldn't quite collect his thoughts. Everything was swirling around his head, fuzzy and unfocused.

"Alfred! You—"

The blond quickly snapped a hand up to cut the voice off, then rubbed his eyes. No glasses. He looked up, blue eyes meeting green, and he blinked when he recognized the man hovering over him. Eng_Arthur_. It was Arthur. Wow, it really was a Peter Parker moment. Maybe he was psychic? Or the world went crazy a long time ago. The latter seemed the best bet.

"Hey Iggy," he mumbled, then blinked in confusion. That wasn't the Brit's name. He'd said that back at the library once, too. Alfred watched Arthur, waiting for the same reaction as last time. He didn't get it.

The Brit scowled, folding his arms. "I thought I told you _not_ to call me that!"he snapped.

The reaction caused Alfred to pitch foreword as he grabbed his head. Eng_Arthur_ had never said that to him, before—or had he?—yet thousands of images ran through his head, each unique in its own way, yet all the same.

"_Don't call me that!"_

"_Git, stop calling me that!"_

"_How many times do I have to tell you?"_

"_Bloody wanker! Do you _never_ learn?"_

"_Aw...c'mon, Iggy!"_

He sat up straight again, eyes wide. Arthur was watching him catuously.

"Alfred?"

The American rubbed his face, once again noticing an absence. "Where's Texas?" he blurted, then froze, not sure why he'd even said that.

Arthur seemed to take this in stride, snatching something from the coffee table and handing it to Alfred. His glasses. Texas. Another wave of pain hit him, and he grabbed his head again.

"Alfred? What's—"

"Mah head hurts, Ig," the younger blond mumbled, not sure why his voice had come out so...twangy. "Dunno why..."

Hands on his shoulders gently pushed him back down onto the couch, brushing some bangs away from his forehead before resting there for a brief moment.

"Matthew, he has a fever," he heard Arthur call, though softly, as if Alfred's headache had been taken into account.

There were soft footsteps, he almost didn't hear them, then a soft, cooler hand rested itself on his forehead.

"Oh, yeah. That's pretty bad, eh?"a soft, familiar voice commented.

Blue eyes started to flutter open, but didn't quite make it. "M-Matt—"

"Hush, America. Go back to sleep."

"_But I'm not tired, Engwand!"_

A child's voice, thick with sleep. His voice. Maybe Matthew's idea that they were all countries wasn't so crazy after all.

"Go back to sleep," Arthur-or was he England? Engwand...haha...—urged once more.

"_Stop trying to tell me what to do! You're not the boss of me, anymore. I'm _free..._"_

Yet, he found himself doing as he was told, mind falling back into the blissful dark on unconsciousness.

_O, say can you see.._

O_O_O_O_O_O

"A pet store?"

Greece blinked and stopped walking, looking back at the man who'd been following him. Sadiq had been so silent, Heracles had actually forgotten that the man was there at all. Greece raised an eyebrow in question, too lazy to actually say anything at the moment.

"How are you supposed to 'protect me'," the Turkish man began again, using air quotes. "At a _pet store?_"

Ohhhhh…that. "You'll see," Greece replied, not bothering to elaborate. Sadiq started to say something else, but the Mediterranean country ignored him and walked inside the building. The scene he found was only…mildly surprising. Not that it showed on his face.

The Netherlands had been about to hand Kiku a kitten, but now seemed frozen, staring at Greece like a deer caught in headlights.

"Oh, do go on. I'm just taking the Tur—Sadiq to the back room," he said, waving them off lazily before nodding to the Japanese man. "Hey, Kiku."

Kiku nodded back, taking the kitten from the Netherlands before blinking. "Wait..what are you doing here, Doctor Adnan? And…why are you wearing that…if you don't mind my asking," the black-haired man stammered slightly, referring to the white porcelain mask that had been covering the Turkish man's face ever since Greece had first made him put it on.

"Apparently, I'm here to see the 'back room'," came Sadiq's voice from behind Heracles. "And I kinda like wearing this thing."

Greece rolled his eyes, then yawned. He really needed a nap…and a snack. A snack and then a nap? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.

"Time to go," Heracles said, voicing the last of his thoughts as he started to move towards the storage room. "Holland, you're coming too. And bring Kiku with you." There was no way he'd let the other nation hog _his_ friend.

O_O_O_O_O_O

Yao didn't know ho long he'd been wandering around this place. Didn't know how he'd gotten there—here—where? His own dark, endless prison. At least he wasn't completely alone. Apparently, whatever had happened to him had happened to Yong Soo as well, and he'd found his Korean brother after what seemed like endless wandering. At this point, he didn't even mind the clingy Korean's endless chatter. It was better than the silence.

"Do you think we'll get out? _Can_ we?" Yong Soo asked him.

Yao didn't know, wasn't sure. He was too preoccupied with the strange images flashing through his mind as he tried not to lead them both in a circle. That's when he heard it.

"Do you, like, have any threes?"

"Ve~ Go Fish!"

O_O_O_O_O

They arrived at Francis' house only half an hour after Antonio had called. Lovino was so distraught the Spaniard had had to restrain the Italian as soon as Ludwig had walked into the room. After calming him down, the Bad Friend Trio had send Lovino upstairs to rest, Ludwig not far behind, though he was advised to be in a separate room. The remaining three then made themselves comfortable in the Frenchman's living room.

"Okay, there's a few things you need to know, first," Gilbert began. Ludwig he could mess around with. The BFT? He was going to try to be straight with them. The situation was getting worse by the day. He needed backup that he knew how to work with efficiently.

"Ludwig's my bruder" the albino began. Francis opened his mouth, but Prussia cut him off. "Yeah, yeah. I know, I'm supposed to be dead. I'm not. That accident? Never happened. You've all been living in a fucking dream-world for the last year. Good morning!"

Francis looked sceptical, and Antonio was a rather unhealthy shade of gray. The blond man was protesting, now. Prussia could hear him, but he wasn't listening to the words.

"You know what I'm talking about…don't you, _Espana_?" he pushed, red eyes narrowing as green eyes went wide. Francis' own blue eyes snapped over to his Spanish friend.

"What is he talking about, Antonio?"

Antonio was shaking his head, his expression conflicted. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind about something, and sat up straighter.

"Si," he said, then looked at Francis. "Us, mi amigo. Gilbert is talking about us…about _the world_."

O_O_O_O_O_O

Peter hissed in pain before quickly biting his lip, cutting off the noise. He was seated on the couch holding out his bare foot. New Zealand knelt before him with some wrappings and an ice pack. The Oceanic country looked up with a frown when he heard the noise.

"Too tight?" he asked, hands pausing where they were.

"N-no," Sealand replied, hating how shaky his voice was, his mind still on the park. How was he supposed to show he could be a real country when he couldn't even get his own fear under control? And now this! He couldn't even handle the pain of a sprained ankle.

The dark-haired nation nodded, and quickly finished wrapping the micro-nation's ankle, handing him the ice pack. Sealand allowed the older country to help him get his ankle propped up before hadning the ice pack back, sighing in relief when he felt the soothing cold seep into his aching ankle.

"Then what the bloody fuck am I _supposed_ to do with it, you stupid old fuck?"

Both nation's heads snapped around at the sound of Australia's enraged shout from the kitchen.

"That jerk England is being stupid and unhelpful again, isn't he?" Peter asked in the usual sneer that accompanied England's name in his mouth.

New Zealand snorted. "Ya think? It probably has something to do with America. He always gets distracted when it comes to America. Ozzy hates it," he explained. "You can tell by the change in vocabulary. Suddenly 'fucking' becomes his favourite adjective."

"Mmmmm…." Sealand agreed as he listened in on the rest of Ozzy's conversation, then glanced nervously at the corner where an unconscious girl—_thing_**monster**—lay, wrists and ankles bound.

After the Perfect's outburst at the park, the two older nations had simply been too shocked to bring themselves to finish her. Australia had taken the initiative, knocking the thing out and deciding to take it prisoner. He'd called England to try and figure out what to do with her—_it_—now that they had it. The nation and micro-nation both winced when they heard Australia slam the phone onto the receiver and watched warily as he walked into the room, running a hand through his blond hair.

"The Old Fuck was no help," the blond man snarled, kicking at a side-table in his frustration. Peter winced as a lamp went crashing to the floor, but New Zealand just rolled his eyes.

"I'm picking up on a 'but'," the Kiwi pressed, ignoring the broken lamp on the floor.

Ozzy sighed. "But Mattie suggested we kill it as soon as we can," he stated bluntly.

Sealand blinked at this. Who—wait, did he mean _Canada_? _He'd_ suggested this? It seemed so…out of character for the usually peaceful nation. New Zealand frowned.

"He did? Did something happen topside?" he asked, knowing the violet-eyed nation all too well.

Australia flopped onto an armchair, eyes on their unconscious prisoner. "The shaepshifter in the basement got out somehow. Bugger when on a rampage," he explained.

Sealand paled a bit at the thought, and the Kiwi rolled his eyes again. "Yeah, that'd do it…" he trailed off to look at the Perfect, then locked eyes with Australia.

"Who's going to do it?"

The question hung in the air for too long before Australia's dead eyes locked onto the Perfect again.

"Take Peter upstairs," he ordered flatly, and New Zealand nodded, picking the boy up.

They were already halfway up the stairs before Sealand realized that the only lethal things in the house were the broken knives in the trash (courtesy of Australia trying to cook)…and the shards of the broken lamp.

"_Monsters."_

00000000000

FINALLY!

Its been WAY too long since I last updated, I know. I'm sorry.

Unfortunately, it's a bit hard to type when your hand randomly decides its going to swell up grotesquely one morning. O.o Anyways, so I FINALLY have this typed up, and I already have the next chapter written down, so that should be up within the next week as an extra apology. Sorry for any spelling errors. I was in a bit of a rush to type this up at school, so I didn't have time to check. D:

Its been too long since I wrote this chapter, so I forgot what all I was going to say about each of the parts. XD oops. My bad. If there are any questions, feel free to ask me in a review or PM. I'd be happy to answer any questions for those who are a bit confused. :3

Thank you all for reading! :D


	20. Chapter 19

Just a note to make to everyone. Hopefully, I'll be able to fix it, later, but a reviewer was kind enough to point out that I spelled Mauri wrong. Sorry, everyone! New Zealand isn't really in this chapter, but he should be in the next one, so I'll make sure to spell it right from now on.

oooooooooo

_He'd been sitting on the couch a minute ago, face in his hands as he tried to wrap his mind around what he'd been told. What Gilbert had said, what Antonio had tried to confirm. It was so crazy. Almost as crazy as the fuzzy dreams he had each night, the ones he couldn't remember when the morning came._

_That was a minute ago. Now, he was somewhere completely different. It was a large old, old French house, like the one his grandparents—why did that word feel sop odd and out of place in his mind?—used to own in France—oh how he wanted to go _home_—where?—_there.

_Francis brought a hand to his head, shaking it back and forth slightly as he tried to re-order his thoughts. His hair was in a pony-tail, he absently noted. The blond could tell by the way it felt as he shook his head. When he looked down he saw that he was dressed differently, like someone from a different century—_here—when?—_maybe he was._

_Francis was saved from his swirling thoughts when he heard the soft pattering of small feet. He turned around and his arms were full on blond and white, a small smiling boy in a nightgown. Francis nearly felt blinded from the happiness radiating from the boy and his smile. Violet eyes framed by wavy golden locks gazed upon him in adoration._

"_Bonjour, Papa!" the child squealed in delight before small, thin arms hugged him tightly around the neck._

_Suddenly, Francis couldn't breathe. The lights around him started to flicker as he struggled for breath, the entire scene melting away as he fell to his knees, black spots dancing across his vision. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun it stopped. Francis breathed in sharply, his lungs desperate for air, only to find his lungs trying to hack it out again._

_His eyes burned as he tried to peer through the—smoke? A shadow was visible just beyond, it was—_

_Fear. Pain. Rage. Anguish._

She was burned at the stake.

_She was burning, burning, burning, and there was nothing he could do. He tried to call her name, tried to scream it, but no sound cam out. He tried to run to her, help her, _save her_—but they wouldn't let him. Strong hands caught him, held him down. Nonononowhywhy_why?

_Help her. Save her. Can'tcan'tcan't. She was burningburning. His angel. His beautiful angel._

_The world snapped back into focus with a sickening _crack_, but it wasn't quite right. Not yet. He was back in that old French house, the lights all out except for a single, flickering candle. As he made his way towards it, a flash of white and gold caught his eye and the man turned. It was the boy from before, but something was different, wrong. Very wrong._

_The boy's nightgown was shorter, indicating that he'd grown some, and his eyes, his beautiful violet eyes…they were a dead, dull purple, rimmed in red. Francis could still see the tracks tears had made down the child's dusty cheeks._

"_Why?" the boy asked, staring at him forlornly. The image of an older teen with glasses over-lapped the boy's, and Francis' heart skipped a beat._

"_Why did you leave?"_

_No. Nonononono. He knew that voice. Knew that boy. Knew that teen._

"_Why did you abandon me?"_

_Francis grabbed his head._

_He was holding the boy's hand. Couldn't look at him. It hurt too much. If he did, his mask might break._

"_Papa? Where are we going?" the child asked, violet eyes wide and innocent._

_He stopped walking and turned to a shadowed figure. "I brought him," he stated, voice so empty it scared him._

_The figure chuckled, taking a step foreword, a hand reaching out for the tiny angel next to him._

_The child looked up in fright. "Papa?" he whimpered._

_His head hurthurthurt._

_Jean. His angel. She was burning again. His angel was on firefirefire. He closed his eyes, unable to watch anymore. The screaming…suddenly the screams changed. Francis's eyes flew open in shock when he recognized the voice, recognized the figure burning._

_It wasn't Jean, anymore. The pain escalated until he knew. _He knew_._

"_Mattieu…"_

_Then, he was on fire, too._

_O_O_O_O_O_O_

"It just doesn't make any sense!" England yelled, waving his arms around in his frustration.

Canada sighed, tossing his cell phone onto the kitchen table. "I _know_," he grumbled, reaching up to rub his temples.

Both countries were still trying to get over what had happened. First, Greece, the Netherlands, Kiku, and Sadiq had come through the Rip. That had been a _nightmare_. It had officially ruined Arthur's day. They'd just barely managed to help Greece and Holland herd Sadiq and Kiku into another part of the house where the yelling wouldn't wake Alfred.

After that, the phone calls had started.

The first one had been Belgium who'd wanted to check up on her brother. The next had been from Vietnam and Taiwan who'd wanted to check up on Hong Kong. Matthew had walked all over, only to find out from Seychelles, who was outside playing with the animals (Kumajirou was trying to eat Holland's rabbit. Canada thought it was cute) that Hong Kong was still on the Other Side looking for the missing Yao and Yong Soo.

_Then_ Australia had called about a Perfect his group had caught. Canada was running short on patience at that point, and had snatched the phone away with only one message ("Kill it.") before shoving it back into England's hands. And if the didn't top the day off, the phone was ringing again, Hong Kong's name showing up on the caller ID. ("Oh, _now_ you want to talk? Pick up your damn phone!") Now Matthew's day seemed like it had been filled with rainbows and buttercups…five minutes ago.

England had to snatch the phone away and told Hong Kong to help Gilbert find Feliciano as he herded Canada to the couch where he could watch Alfred. The former empire disappeared into the kitchen after that, leaving Matthew to seethe silently.

The stress was finally getting to him, and he knew it. He always seemed like he was a tired stresser, someone who just looked exhausted when stressed. He was. Then came the temper problems. He was usually so good with his temper that no one ever noticed, but he was an angry stresser. The stress built and built and built behind his polite smile until he felt ready to explode.

Thank God for hockey.

But there was no time for hockey, now, and he was forced to sit with his sleeping brother and seethe.

"Mattie?"

Canada's violet eyes focused and locked onto a pair of blue ones. Alfred looked a little confused, and his gaze was still a little unfocused, but he definitely…definitely looked _better_.

Matthew smiled, moving closer to try and check his brother's temperature. "Hey, Al," he greeted softly, placing a hand on his twin's forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Lahk shit," the American drawled, rubbing his eyes.

Matthew chuckled a bit, and Alfred's head shot up, blue eyes focusing on his brother's face.

"_What?_" the blond demanded, reducing his Canadian twin to snickering.

"Is Texas acting up, again?" Canada teased with a small smile.

Alfred blinked. "My glasses?" he asked, confused.

Matthew rolled his eyes, snatching the glasses and handing them over. "The state, idiot. How's your head? Do you need pain killers? A cold beer? You're in _my_ country, so its perfectly legal. Do you need more pillows? A blanket? Anything?" he inquired.

Alfred put his glasses on and stared at Matthew. "I love how you can sound condescending and worried at the very same time," he muttered sarcastically.

"Da. It is very amusing."

The long silence was nothing new to Egypt, but it was making the Baltics fidgety.

"_What the fuck are you hosers doing in my house?_"

O_O_O_O

"Thanks…Don't worry, I'm so awesome, I'll keep _two_ eyes on them!"

Antonio looked up from the fridge just as Gilbert shut his phone. "So?" he asked, green eyes curious. "We're getting help?"

Prussia grinned, snatching a can of Soda from the fridge before the Spaniard could close the door. "Ja!" he chirped, popping the can open. "Got on of the best guys on it." He noticed the look on his friend's face and supplied the name. "Hong Kong."

Antonio still looked a bit uncertain, but he nodded anyways. He was trying to remember, Gilbert could tell. He was also much more willing to accept the former nation's explanation of what was going on than Francis was. Then again, the Limey had already been working on Spain's memories, so it was probably easier for the Spaniard to believe this anyway. Unfortunately, no one had been working on Francis' memories, so the blond was having a bit more trouble believing.

There was a soft grunt at the doorway to the kitchen, causing both men to turn and look.

'_Speak of the devil and he shall appear…'_ Prussia thought with a snort, then frowned. Francis didn't look so good. He was running a hand through his wavy blond hair, his face far too pale and—

"Were you crying?" Antonio asked incredulously.

Francis reflexively touched one cheek, seeming quite surprised by the wetness he felt there, then quickly wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

"I am fine," he muttered, though Gilbert noticed his accent was a bit more mixed, like it came from all the regions in France. He was pretty sure that if Francis spoke his native language now, he wouldn't be able to decide on a dialect. The man was definitely upset. "It was just a dream…"

"What did you dream about?" Antonio asked, green eyes narrowed with worry. Francis rubbed his face with one hand.

"Fire. I dreamt of fire."

Prussia smirked.

O_O_O_O_O

"I'm going crazy, I just know I am!"

Austria sighed, closing the book he'd been reading. "You are not going crazy," he assured her, voice firm.

Elizaveta froze in what she was doing, startled, then blushed. "I said that out loud?"

"Yes. Yes you did."

"You're _sure_ I'm not going crazy?"

"You're having dreams where you are the personification of the country of Hungary?" he inquired, eyebrow raised.

The brunette woman froze, eyes wide as she stared at Roderich. She'd never told him that. All she had told him was that she'd been having strange dreams, random visions. That she thought she was going crazy.

"Yes…" she whispered, hands clenched in the fabric of her skirt.

Roderich sighed again, putting his book down as he got up and went to get his coat. Elizaveta felt her hope start to fade.

"You're…you're leaving?" she asked, eyes following the Austrian man's every move.

"Yes." He replied calmly. "And you're coming, too."

The Hungarian woman perked up at this. "Where are we going?"

"To see Prussia."

O_O_O_O_O_O

Denmark's face stung. It was probably because of the punch he'd received a bit ago. Great. He could almost _feel_ the oncoming black eye. Oh, wait, he could.

Sonuvabitch.

So, maybe having Norway distract Tino by taking him somewhere else and then antagonizing Berwald unti it turned into a brawl…_wasn't_ a good idea.

Still, it was fun.

"Nostalgic, yeah?" the Scandinavian nation said, grinning at the other man. "Reminds me of when we were kids."

Y're y'ng'r'n I 'm," the Swedish man grumbled, tongue flicking out to test the severity of his split lip. He seemed a bit confused my his own words, but Denmark knew he was slowly getting through to Sweden (whatever he'd just said, there was probably a human/country double meaning to it).

There was a slight cough ff to the side, and both men turned to see Iceland standing by one of the bookshelves. Huh. Soren had forgotten that the other nation was there. He must have been exploring the library while the other two had been fighting.

"He's right, you know," the purple-eyed nation commented. "You _are_ younger. And if you look at how you were formed, technically Norway is your—"

"_No!_" Denmark spat back vehemently. "_No_ he's _not_. That is just _too_ freaking weird!"

Iceland shrugged, unaffected by the other nation's tone. "Whatever. Just putting a theory out there."

Denmark groaned, and Berwald just looked more irritated and confused.

"Putting what out where?" Norway asked from the doorway as he and Tino walked back in.

Denmark resisted the urge to repeatedly bash his head against the wall. "_Nothing_, Norge," he practically growled, shooting a glare at Iceland.

Tino simply stared at the two beat-up blonds. "What the heck were you two _doing_?" he gaped.

Denmark couldn't help himself. "Having rough sex."

Great. More bruises.

O_O_O_O_O

"Like, got any fours?"

"Ve~~ Go Fish!"

Gah! Yong Soo, _get off_, aru!"

"But I'm _fishing!_"

"This is, like, _so_ weird. Like, to the max."

"Ve~~"

O_O_O_O_O

Austria hated being out of the loop. Unfortunately, there was no piano around so he could appropriately express his feelings about not knowing where to find that idiot albino.

"Er…Roddy?"

Austria sighed, pushing up his glasses. "Yes, Elizaveta?"

"Why…are we at Arthur's house? Weren't we supposed to go look for…Prussia?" a mixture of emotions flickered across her face. Fear, anger, annoyance, confusion. Yeah, Gilbert could do that to people.

"That's right. We are at Eng—Arthur's house, however, because I have no idea how to find the piano-smashing idiot," he explained. The last few words were muttered as the memory of several 'dead' pianos flashed through his mind.

"I see…" Elizaveta replied, though she didn't see at all. Roderich pushed this to the back of his mind as he knocked on the door.

There was an explosion of noise ('Crikey!""Fuckfuckfuckshitfuck!") then silence. Then, the door opened. "Fuckin' who is—hey! It's the Piano Man!" Ozzy exclaimed, eyes locked onto Austria. The other nation ignored the fact that the blond had made some sort of song reference, simply choosing to stare. Next to him, Elizaveta took on an unhealthy gray shade.

The sleeves of the Australian's shirt were rolled up, but that hadn't stopped blood from getting onto his shirt. Or him. It was all over his hands, the front of his shirt, the edges of his sleeves…

"You're covered in blood," the European nation pointed out. Ozzy blinked, then looked down.

"So I am, mate. But I get the feeling you didn't come all the way here just to tell me that. What's up, Piano Man?" e asked, glancing uncertainly at the, surprisingly, still-standing Hungarian woman next to Austria.

"Yes, yes…but I must ask; what happened?"

Australia shrugged. "Killing a shapeshifter…er, Perfect. The Perfects are shapshifters, by the way."

"And…it caused this much blood?"

"Well…I mean, she just wouldn't fucking die! She always ended up healing, I don't really know how to kill shapeshifters, sooo…"

"So?"

"So I figured since it worked for other supernatural stuff, I kinda lopped…sawed…her head off."

Something was missing from this explanation. "…With what?"

"A…broken piece of pottery?"

_Thump_.

Oh, dear. Elizaveta had fainted.

O_O_O_O_O_O

Another sister had winked out in his mind, another hole in his heart. Dead and gone, dead and gone, dead is dead is dead.

"Jess…" he whimpered, feeling Amy's arms tighten around him. "No more…please, no more…"

"Why? Why did they have to kill his family? He was just trying to make his sisters happy. His only family. The hurt was toomuchtoomuchtoomuch.

—

"Big Brother? Leo?" Amy whispered, but he barely heard her.

Leo. Leo, Leo, Leo. That's what Alfred always called him Alfred, America. He'd liked him. A friend. His friend. He'd made the blocks extra tight, extra strong. Just for him. Just for his friend. The best friend he'd wanted for so long.

Alfred.

Pain. Betrayal. Sorrow. Hurthurthurt.

Alfred had left him. Left Leo. It hurt. He hated pain. Alfred was causing him pain. Eyes shot open, pupils dilating until nearly all of the iris was gone. Alfred had killed Greta. He could feel it. His best friend had betrayed him. Killed his sister. Betrayal was agony. Al was bad. He needed to be punished.

"Brother?"

An eye for an eye.

A sibling for a sibling.

00000000000

All done! For now, at least.

I wanted to do a memory for France, then I realized a trippy dream would be better. Its just my take on not the country of France leaving Canada in the hands of England, but Francis leaving Matthew. You know what I mean? I dunno….I'm not sure what else I was going to say about that.

Lol, Russia the creep strikes again! But this time he brought friends….XD Poor Matthew.

I also wanted to do an after-the-dream scene. That's what I came up with. Gilbert was talking to Hong Kong at the very beginning of that.

I'd nearly forgotten about Austria and Hungary, so I decided to have them help me explain the fate of Jessica. Australia's not usually that bloodthirsty. Extreme conditions just cause him to shut down about death, I think. I feel Canada, and Probably New Zealand, would be the same way, if you looked real close. After all, England stuck them all on the front lines during the World Wars. That kind of experience leaves pretty big scars.

I tried to make the part with Leo as strange and broken-up as possible. Its supposed to show his fragmenting mind. Did you all like the cliffy? Leo is planning something~!

Well, hope you all liked it. Cheers! :D


	21. Chapter 20

I haven't updated in so long….ugh. How long has it even _been?_ Not that I was keeping track. The usual kept me away…school…work…stuff…yeah. And writer's block. Don't forget the bane of my very existence…..hissssss….

So…yeah. I'm back. I'm sorry to inform you that this will be the last chapter, though. There might be an epilogue if I feel up to writing it, but this is definitely the last chapter. Sorry! D:

O_O_O_OO

Alfred was running. Out the door. Across the lawn. Into confusion and insanity, only to end up on the other side of the looking glass. Shaking off the effects of the Rip, the blond got up and bolted out the petshop door. He was pretty sure Arthur had tried to stop him on his way out, pretty sure he'd pushed his way past five people on his way out of the petshop.

That didn't matter.

All that mattered was Matthew. His brother.

_Missing_.

And it was all his fault.

"_No!"_

_The blond winced at the vehemence in his brother's voice. He'd never heard that, before. Or…maybe he had? No, no it was too…_

_Blue eyes narrowed. "Why _not_? Its not like I'm going to run into the library and wave my arms around screaming 'Here I am!' I just…wanna go…and…you know…I mean, I'm not getting anything, Mattie! Zero! Zip! Nada! And every time I try I'm out cold with a fever!" Alfred protested, waving his arms around in the air. "Maybe there's something back there that can he-"_

"No!"

"_Why are you being so freaking stubborn about this?" Alfred yelled, arms out wide in his best 'what the hell?' pose._

"_You're _not_ going back there!" his normally quiet brother shouted back. "_Never_! You such an _idiot_! I…! I…argh!"_

_Alfred watched as Matthew stormed over to the door, Kumajirou scrambling to get out of his way. He felt his chest tighten, heat bubbling just below his skin and his fists clenched._

"_Where the hell are you going?"_

"_Out! And you're staying _here_!"_

_Alfred felt like screaming as the door slammed shut. Felt like throwing something, even though he knew it wouldn't help._

_Five hours later, Matthew still wasn't home._

_An hour after that, Kumajirou came lumbering in, dragging Matthew's ripped jacket._

_That's when Alfred panicked._

O_O_O_O_O

Numb.

Everything felt numb. It was dark. A dark-dark place. He was tired, so tired.

_Don't go to sleep._

But he wanted to, so badly. So tired. No light. Numb. Where was he?

His eyes tried to open. It took a couple tries, but eventually he succeeded. He was so tired. Maybe he could just…

_Don't go to sleep._

"Hello, Matthew."

_Don't go to sleep._

"Why?" he mumbled. "Who?" His tongue felt thick and fuzzy in his mouth. It was hard to talk around it, and it took him a moment to remember that he needed to _use_ it to speak.

Pain.

It bloomed in his side and he immediately curled in on himself with a moan. The pain cut through the fuzziness, the numbness, the darkness. It made him tired.

_Don't go to sleep._

"Glad to see that got your attention."

Canada let his eyes open again, and looked up into the darkness of the room. He could just barely make out the form of a brown-haired boy wearing a black hoodie. So tired…

_Go to sleep and you may never wake up._

"I didn't actually want to do this," Leonas murmured, reaching out to stroke Canada's cheek, his touch gentle, lips pursed in a sad frown. His eyes. Matthew couldn't bring himself to look at the boy's eyes.

They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul.

There was something so _wrong_ with Leonas' eyes, Matthew nearly wanted to rip them out, anything to get those _things_ away from him, make them stop looking.

"He was…" Leonas began again, then trailed off, staring at something that was there, just beyond Matthew. So tired…

Canada yelped as something stuck him across the face, making his head snap back. He looked up to see Leonas staring at him wildly.

"He was my _friend! _And he killed my baby _sister!_" he screamed at Matthew, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and pulling the weakened country up to his level. Matthew tried to resist, tried to struggle, but he was so tired…

"My _sister!_" Leonas repeated. "Do you even know _how_ that _feels?_ Well, I'm going to show _HIM_ how it feels!"

He threw the nation back down to the floor and laughed.

His eyes slowly closing, Canada wondered if those were tears rolling down the monster's cheeks.

O_O_O_O

Where?

Alfred slowed to a stop, his heard pounding like a war drum. He shook his head to clear it then grabbed it, fingernails digging into his skull. Focusfocusfocusfocus!

Where would Matthew be? Correction: Where would they take him?

Somewhere where they would have enough power to contain him.

_Here we go 'round the mulberry bush._

_X marks the spot._

_All roads lead to Rome._

Alfred's eyes widened as he took in the street signs, a mental map of the city forming in his head.

_All roads lead to Rome._

_The nucleus is also known as the 'brain' of the cell._

Alfred's feet slowly started to move foreword, gaining speed as he went until he was sprinting. He didn't bother to check which street he went down. They all lead to the same place. Houses flashed by him, children playing in the front yards. He'd never noticed before, how some rows of houses were repeated. The children were all playing the same game.

None of them had faces.

He'd never noticed. He must have been blind. Matthew had been right. Coming back here was dangerous.

He slowed to a stop as he neared the building. This wasn't right. There was caution tape barring the entrance, and two police officers stood just outside, talking to an older blond couple.

"And when was the last time you saw your son?" he heard an officer ask, and he froze. Liquid nitrogen froze its way through his veins and the tips of his fingers tingled.

The blond woman was about to answer when something caused her to look up, pale blue eyes locking with Alfred's vibrant baby blues. She brought a hand to her mouth in a quiet gasp and began to run to him.

"Alfred!"

_Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! Danger!_

Her arms wrapped around him in a loving embrace and she buried her face in his shoulder. Her husband had come over at this point as well, resting a hand on Alfred's unoccupied shoulder.

"We've been worried, son," he said, gray-blue eyes brimming with emotion.

His parents.

_Wrong._

"_Hush, my little Golden child. I will tell you a story of the Sky People…"_

He could taste bile rising in his throat as he pushed the woman away from him, stepped away from the man's hand.

"I'm not the one you're looking for," he said, trying not to look at them. He could see their images flicker briefly in the corner of his eye. The police officers were no longer at the doors to the library. Where did they go? The sunlight got brighter and an owl hooted in a nearby tree, the clawed branches reaching towards Alfred yet not moving at all.

"Alfred?" the woman called. Her voice sounded faded. The man's voice came in and out like static. Angry. He was worrying his mother, worrying him. "Stop this craziness, son, and we can get you the help you need."

Help? Did he need help? The clouds were melting out of the sky, the moon swallowed the sun, plunging the city into night. He tried to move towards the building. His brother was in there.

_The nucleus of the cell…_

_Epicentre…_

_All roads lead to Rome._

The woman tried to reach for him. "Alfred, baby, please," she whimpered. "Just stop this and come home. There are people who can help you."

Alfred focused on his mother. "I don't know you," he told her.

His father looked about ready to explode, his face getting redder and redder by the second. "She's your _mother_!" he yelled. "We're your _parents!_ We gave birth to you! Now stop this and let's-!"

"My mother born after the Sky Woman's grandsons helped to create the land after the death of their mother," he said. The images flickered like a satellite TV image in a storm. Grandmother Moon smiled at him from above.

America ran to the library.

O_O_O_OO_O

"What's going on? Roddy? Roddy, answer me!" Elizaveta sobbed hysterically. Austria simply held her hand tighter as they ran behind Australia, New Zealand, and Sealand.

Around them the world was going mad.

The city had been plunged into darkness. Starts flickered in and out in the sky and the moon spun dizzyingly around the world. Trees tried to grab at them with their clawed branches to slow them down as cars on the street warped and twisted grotesquely, some managing to crush their face-less drivers with their twisting, drenching the windows in blackening blood.

Sealand cried out as the petshop came into view, and Austria's grip on Elizaveta's hand tightened once more.

"Just keep running," he told her. "And whatever you do, don't let go."

O_O_O_O_O_O

Feliciano was scared.

He clung to Feliks as they, Yong Soo, and Yao huddled together. It didn't seem possible, but the darkness around the was twisting, writhing, _screaming._ It roiled and rolled with all the fervour of a stormy sea, reaching out to engulf them, only to shy back at the last second with a shriek.

Feliciano was scared.

Feliciano was terrified.

Feliciano knew he was probably going to die here, with these strangers.

_But they weren't strangers. And look; help is coming. Listen, they're coming, they're coming._

"Who's coming?" he whispered, then fell to the ground, hands trying desperately yo cover his ears and block out the noise.

_The noise_.

It was the most horrible thing he'd ever heard, and the longer he listened, the more he felt like it was trying to rip his head apart _from the inside_.

The writhing wraithlike shadows scatter into particles of darkness, screaming for all they were worth**. Screaming**_**keening**_**shrieking**_**crying**__moaning_ripping_the__**fabric**_**of**the_world__**apart**_**at**the_seams._

_The noise was gone._

Feliciano looked up, eyes burning with tears to see a rip made of light, and a single hand reaching through like a beacon of lost hope.

O_O_O_O

The world was going mad. Of course, that's what happened with Fey things, he supposed. When you started to lose sight of sanity, they loved to reflect it all, manifest it in the worst way possible.

Matthew was gone. Alfred had gone after him. The Nordics had said so, after coming back through the Rip. Autralia's group was coming home, probably running for their lives. It was time to leave. Hong Kong had located those who were missing, had enlisted Egypt's help in getting them back. Prussia's phone had died before he could tell him to _get out_.

The world was going mad, and he found himself running down the streets of insanity.

"_Run, run!"_

"_As fast as you can!"_

"_You can't catch me!"_

"_I'm the gingerbread-man!"_

He ignored the high-pitched peals of maniacal laughter, nearly running into the right door before throwing it open.

"Everybody _get out now!_"

The Fey continued to laugh in childish delight.

O_O_O_O_O

"Quickly! Quickly!" Seychelles urged, catching Sealand when he tripped on his way out of the Rip. She quickly pulled the micro-nation out of the way as Austria Elizaveta came tumbling through. The Hungarian woman immediately began to retch, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"O-Oh my G-Go-" she sobbed. Austria swayed as he got to his feet, pulling Elizaveta up with him.

Every nation in Canada's house was on full-alert. Things had reached their climax, and everyone had been ordered to _get out_. When England had left, others had taken charge, trying to keep everyone calm. Seychelles had come outside to make sure everyone got through alright. The haunted looks on their faces…she couldn't even begin to imagine what must be going on in that place.

"Where are Australia and New Zealand?" she asked quickly, hugging the trembling micro-nation.

Austria glanced over at her. "They stayed behind to wait for England," he spoke in monotone.

In her arms Sealand gave a shudder, clenching his little fists in the fabric of the female nation's blue sundress. He looked up into Seychelle's face, blue eyes wide as saucers. Haunted. Terrified. Scarred.

"Th-the petshop. I-it…th-those animals…s-so much r-red…all r-red…" he mumbled, burying his face in her shoulder before bursting into tears.

As she hugged Sealand to her, she felt something wet seep into her dress. Austria helped Elizaveta stumble to the house, still babbling. "OhmyGod…OhmyGod…OhmyGod…"

From the knees down, they were soaked in red.

O_O_O_O_O_O

Everything in the shop was dead.

Australia tried to breathe in, almost puking when the stench of death and blood nearly suffocated him.

The tanks had crumpled like balls of paper, bits of scales and organs squeezing out like goo. The cages had twisted into insane spirals, furry limbs hanging from the warped bars like ornaments on a Christmas tree.

New Zealand was nearby leaning against a still-normal wall, face ashen, eyes closed, breathing heavily.

Australia stood knee-deep in blood.

_Come back, Dad._

_The world is dying._

_Please don't follow it._

O_O_O_O_O

_Don't go to sleep_.

He struggled to get his eyes open, half-lidded violet orbs resting on Leonas who was smiling serenely. Amy stood next to him, her face contorted in pain as a strange ripple went across it.

There was movement nearby. A door. Footsteps. Someone running. He was too tired to move, to look. He kept his eyes on Leonas, struggled to keep them open. Amy moved out of sight, angry, violent. Only to be thrown into a nearby bookcase. Bookcase? Oh, that's where he was.

Someone else was there. Who was it? So tired…

_Don't go to sleep._

O_O_O_O_O

"_NO!"_ Leo screamed, pulling at his hair, clawing at his face. "You've ruined it! _YOU'VE RUINED EVERYTHING!"_

America watched in horror as the boy's face rippled, cracked, twisted, _warped_, just like everything else. _Because they were one and the same_. He was part of the world around them, it was part of him. He'd never left because _he couldn't_.

"Leo…" Alfred began softly, taking a step foreword, only to stop in his tracks.

The thing known as Leonas, laughed as it cried, holding a half-conscious Canada up by the face.

"Don't," it told Alfred. "Don't come any closer." Its grip on Canada's face tightened slightly and America's brother groaned softly. Veins stood out black on Leonas' hands and under the nation's skin where the shifter was holding him, pulsing slightly.

"Leo-"

"_Don't call me that!" _it screamed, lower lip trembling. It wasn't laughing, now. "You ruined everything. _All_ of you did. So I'm going to take the thing that matters most to you. _Just like you did to me_."

Its eyes locked on Canada's face, the black veins pulsing as it began to drain the nation's life energy away. The violet eyes started to close. So tired…

"Hey, Leo?"

Startled, Leonas looked up. "Wha-?"

_Ker-chack_.

"I'm sorry."

A singled gunshot went off just before the world tore itself apart.

_O_O_O_O_O_

"…_This is the way the world ends_

_This is the way the world ends_

_This is the way the world ends_

_Not with a bang but a whimper."_

_-'The Hollow Men', by T S Eliot._

000000

Well…this was the last chapter, folks. I'll probably post an Epilogue, or something, but for now the true ending of the story is completely up to your imaginations.

I was NOT listening to Nox Arcana for the entire chapter.

…Okay, maybe just a little.

There's not much for me to say on this…but I can't believe its over. I get the feeling I'm gonna get yelled at if I don't post an Epilogue, so we'll just turn that into "I'll definitely post and Epilogue" okay?

Well? Tell me what you all think! I hope not too many people hate me for that ending. Still, can't wait to hear what you guys have to say! And since this is the final chapter, Epilogue or no, I insist that even the lurkers (Yes, I'm talking to you, Claire) try their best to review, and tell me everything!

Thank you so much for reading this fic to the end, and biggest thanks to all who reviewed on this fic. You all really helped to inspire me to go on with this. Especially Ookami. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Well, its blurred-vision-o-clock in the morning…so I'm just gonna hit the hay…

Goodnight, everyone…


End file.
